Stupid Interns
by sofia.estrella
Summary: I, Brielle Schmitt, am in my second year of internship at St. Mungo's. It seems like every day I have to deal with splinchings, Nazi-like Healers, an insane best friend, and the unrequited love of my life, Teddy Lupin (who's just graduated from Hogwarts and has no clue what he wants to do with himself—other than live happily-ever-bloody-after with Victoire Weasley). Vic/Teddy/OC/OC
1. Chapter 1

"So, what's Shifty up to today?"

I grimace and glance over to Eli, my supposed best friend, who seems to think it's her mission in life to aggravate and embarrass me. Des, my other and occasionally more loyal best friend, is pretending not to listen.

"How should I know?" I mutter with a dismissive shrug.

"Well, it's the only plausible explanation for you being so sulky on our first day back," Eli says. "Shifty gets you moping like nothing else."

I should explain: Ages ago, way back in second year, when we met Teddy Lupin (a first year at the time), Des christened him "That Shape-Shifter Freak." Apparently, the nickname was too many syllables and it was shortened to "Shifty" in a matter of days. And, somehow, it stuck—all the way through Hogwarts and to our second year of internship at St. Mungo's. I have incredibly mature friends.

"_Teddy_," I say, eliciting one of Eli's trademark eye-rolls, "is at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters."

"And why would he be there?" Eli asks. She knows the answer of course—or she would be able to guess. "He graduated last year. Did he get held back to repeat seventh?"

"No, he's seeing off Victoire." The words felt yanked from me against my will.

"Ah," Bri and Des sigh in unison, identical smirks adorning their faces.

The three of us, matching in our hideous lime-green uniforms, finally reach the Healer's lounge on the fourth floor. Eli often says that the sickening color of the robes is intentional—that that is how we keep patients in the hospital longer. She reckons we ought to have a healthier shade of green, instead of this overwhelming and nasty hue. Her words, not mine. She also thinks that she should make friends with someone from the _Prophet_ so they can write an exposé about the scandal. She's rather opinionated. Although, I bet her dislike of the uniforms has more to do with how the color really isn't flattering on the pale, blonde, blue-eyed girl.

Then again, it doesn't work for _anyone_. Actually… back in my fifth-year, Teddy had this phase where he changed his hair color hourly and eventually settled on about the same color as our Healer robes. And, I must say, it didn't look half-bad on him. Nevertheless, I was just as happy to see his hair back to neutral shades of brown and blonde in a few weeks.

The lounge is buzzing with dozens of bright-green-clad Healers and Mediwizards and witches. I swear, they should really dim the lights—it's enough to make you go blind. Or, at least, wish you were blind.

The three of us gather with the other second-year interns, in a corner of the lounge, out of the way of the busy (and important) Healers and other hospital staff. This is our last year of relative unimportance, demonstrated by our continuing lack of a paycheck. For most of our first year we treaded around carefully, terrified of messing up anything—as if lives depended on the paperwork and coffee we carried through the corridors. During the latter part of the year, however, we grew to accept and even embrace our insignificance. We began to live by a mantra that Des coined: only one who doesn't matter is truly free. And now we might as well tattoo it on our foreheads. We have no intentions of wasting our last year of freedom being cautious. Of course, we will have more responsibilities this year, but we'll take it as it comes.

The other second-years with whom we'll share these responsibilities are standing around, looking as though they hadn't slept at all during our month-long holiday. Actually, that's fairly likely. I had spent the majority of that time with two of them and I can testify that rest wasn't an objective. Gabryle Kendrick, a small, quirky and unintentionally hilarious ex-Ravenclaw, has reddened eyes behind thin wire-rims.

"Hey, Bri, Des, Eli," he says with a nod to us three ex-Hufflepuffs.

"Hey, Gabe." We nod back at him.

"So, you decided to return," Des notes, grinning.

Gabe runs a hand through his thin hair that still manages to fluff up, seemingly naturally. "Yeah, well…"

Last night, at a back-to-work party that was admittedly a bad idea, he had made the alcohol-induced decision to quit Healing and pursue professional Wizard's chess, which I don't think is even an existing career. But if anyone could make a living at it, Gabe could.

Rafa, another witness to Gabe's announcement, laughs. His full name is Rafael Hugo Nazario, the kind of name that, as Eli once put it, can get a girl pregnant just by hearing it—especially if said in the Spanish transfer's light and lyrical accent. So, in order to prevent any unwanted pregnancies, Des took to calling him Rafa, and it caught on as all of Des's nicknames do.

The other two second-years are not nearly as fun. Chase Bowe, as ex-Gryffindor, is just sort of a jerk. Maybe I'll delve into the story later. We call him Cha-Cha, for no particular reason. India Sampson, an ex-Slytherin who is dark both in looks and in personality, is simply a creep. Indie is the unimaginative nickname that's satisfactory enough, considering none of us wants to spend too much time thinking about her, even for the purpose of giving a nasty moniker.

In fact, the only person who earned a truly spiteful nickname is parading through the lounge now, followed by five timid first-year interns.

"Here comes the Nazi," Des mutters. The Nazi, or just the Naz, is more commonly known as Healer Martha Walker. Actually scratch that—most people call her the Naz. She is strict and vicious and I swear has made it her life mission to turn talented youth off the profession of Healing—often by making them cry.

The small troupe of newbies appears to have already learned this.

Walker sighs, apparently already annoyed, and flips through her clipboard. She glances up at us seven second-years through sparse and bare eyelashes. "Bowe," she says, looking directly at Chase.

"Yes?" he says unsurely.

"I'm doing roll-call; please simply say 'here.'"

Eli and I snicker, even though the mistake is understandable: it's Cha-Cha. He deserves every ounce of ridicule we can manage to put on him.

"Kendrick."

"Here," Gabe says tiredly.

"Lyon."

Destin waves his hand, looking bored.

"Nazario."

"_Aquí_!" Eli says excitedly, pointing to Rafa. She always takes the chance to show off her limited and rather unimpressive Spanish vocabulary.

Walker is clearly unmoved, and continues to stare blankly until Rafa confirms that he is, in fact, here in English.

"Reddor," she says next.

"Present," Eli says cheerily. "And, not to interrupt, but couldn't you just count us, see that there are seven, and move on? I mean, considering you've known us for a year the whole attendance thing seems unnecessary. And you are certainly very busy—we would hate to waste your time."

"And yet that is what you are doing right now, Miss Reddor. Sampson."

Indie nods sullenly at the Healer and goes back to a careful examination of the black polish on her fingernails.

"Schmidt."

"Here," I say.

Walker turns to the new interns. "The second-years will take your attendance and then give you a brief tour of the hospital." She turns to leave, when Des speaks up.

"Wait, Healer Walker—where's Bertie?"

"_Healer Joyce_ has retired," she explains, her tone unwelcoming to any follow up questions.

"What?!" Eli exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air. My and Des's reactions are similar to hers.

Albert, or Bertie, Joyce was an old Healer at St. Mungo's, who had been somewhat of a grandpa to us last year. He was wacky and somewhat senile and certainly deserved to retire, but it was still a shock.

Walker continues, "He is being replaced by Alec Wright, a Scottish Healer, who is very pleased to be joining the staff at St. Mungo's."

Eli's face lights up and I follow her gaze. A tall and undeniably dreamy man appears beside Walker and smiles warmly.

"_Me gustaría estar en sus pantalones*," _Eli whispers to me. Rafa, overhearing it, lets out a snort of laughter and rolls his eyes.

"_Yo también*_," I say back to her under my breath.

Walker stalks away to inflict her Dementor-esque effect on another area of the hospital, and leaves Wright to us.

"Hello," Eli says, smiling shyly. "Welcome to London. You'll _love_ St. Mungo's." She shakes his hand eagerly. "I'm Elizabeth Reddor, but you can call me Eli."

"She's totally flirting with him," Des mutters to me. "Not that I'm surprised, but he's gotta be in his late thirties."

"He's probably married," Rafa adds, checking out the new Healer's hands as he introduces himself to the rest of the interns.

"I don't see a ring," I report back, after shaking his hand.

"Well," Eli says after pleasantries have been sufficiently exchanged, "let's get on with the tour."

As my overly bubbly blond friend proceeds to give Wright a virtually private tour, we trailed him and chatted up the first-years.

"Your name is?" Des says to a small girl with auburn hair and freckles.

"Um, Emmy Raleigh," she replies shyly.

"Wait," Des tilts his head to the size and scrutinizes her. The poor girl blushes. "You were a Puff, weren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, I was," she says brightly. "I recognized you guys."

"Eli, we got a Puff!" he calls.

She turns and mouths something rude to him and then smiles at Wright like nothing happened.

"So, Em, welcome to St. Mungo's."

"I prefer to go by Emmy, actually," she says, appearing a little weirded out by Des. That's perfectly normal.

"See, here's the thing—" Des begins.

I cut him off. He'll thank me for it later. She's cute and I could just tell he was about to embarrass himself. How could I tell? His mouth was open. "Des has a memory problem so he has to shorten everyone's name by at least one syllable in order to remember it. Sorta tragic. Mostly hilarious."

"And completely false," he adds.

"Well, it's a better story than 'giving people nicknames makes me look cool.'"

Em giggles, and glances over at Des briefly as he defends himself. Oh, yes. He'll thank me for it.

We soon found that the only other newbie that clears the bar is Preston Johnson, an enthusiastic ex-Ravenclaw. The other three first-years are Dominic Streit and Jordan Daniels, both previously Gryffindors, and another Ravenclaw alumni Cameron Mayor. We decide quickly that Dom is a douche, and J.D. and Cam are too quiet for our liking. But two out of five is an excellent success rate. None of last year's second-years liked us, so I have to hand it to Em and Pres for making a good impression.

After a relatively uneventful first day back, we take Em and Pres out to our favorite Muggle pub in town. We usually go to Muggle pubs because Eli doesn't want to run into her brother who works at the Ministry—but that's another story. Anyway, we've had fun messing with the Muggles. Don't worry—nothing _too_ illegal. Eli, Des, Rafa, Gabe and I frequent this joint, and we were here practically every night during our month-long holiday. Due to this (and possibly to some Confunding—Eli's hand was in her pocket and she was staring intently at the bartender) we score a round of free drinks.

"Huzzah!" Des says, like he's already drunk, and leads us off. The seven of us squeeze into a booth meant for six and get right down to business.

"Alright," Eli begins, cracking her knuckles. "Welcome to the gang. Among the interns there's two groups. One is us—the ones who are all friends. But we also don't really have any friends outside of the hospital—"

"Except for Teddy," I mutter. I'm ignored.

"—so therefore you are expected to always be available for social gatherings and outings and such."

"Can do," Pres says agreeably.

"Well, I do have friends who are in the Ministry and—" Em begins tentatively.

"Not anymore you don't," Eli says seriously.

"Don't let her scare you," Des says. "She can be intimidating, but you just gotta call her bluff."

"You wanna go, Lyon?" Eli says, holding her arms out. "Come at me. Let's go. Now."

"See?" Des turns to Em. "Bluffing. Besides, _Elizabeth_, I could take you."

"Now who's bluffing?" she scoffs as she rolls up her sleeves.

Des shrugs off his coat and stands up. "Alright. I'll prove it then. I don't bluff, Reddor."

"Guys, guys," Gabe says. "I'd love to see you two go at it and I'd definitely put some money on Eli, but let's not resort to violence."

"Yeah, let's resort to democracy!" Eli says brightly. "We'll vote. Who thinks that I could take Des in a fight?"

The entire table slowly raises one hand, while looking around uncomfortably. Des sinks back into the booth, defeated.

"Now that that's settled," Eli continues, flashing a smile at Des, "where was I? Oh, yes, the second group. All the other interns 'take their job seriously' and have 'friends who live in London.'" She makes exaggerated air quotes as she says this. "The only person in this group who specifically matters is Cha-Cha."

"Chase Bowe," Rafa clarifies. "We hate him."

"And… why is that?" Em asks carefully.

"Bri banged him and she's embarrassed," Gabe says bluntly, smirking at me over his drink. Everyone snickers while I stammer in defense.

"Can I… can I hear this story?" Pres raises his eyebrows and leans in closer.

"We won't tell _anyone_," Em promises, her eyes bright in anticipation.

"Oh, fine." I sigh. My cheeks are burning already. "So, it was my seventh year."

"And she was more in love than ever with Teddy," Eli interrupts, batting her eyelashes.

"Do you want me to tell the story or not?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"Go on, please." She leans back and smiles.

"Well, I did think that he liked me, too, and that he might ask me out. But then he started going out with Victoire."

"She was so crushed, so devastated!" Eli exclaims dramatically.

"He _was_ a douche about it, though," Des notes. "Really rubbed it in her face."

"He didn't know," I say glumly, actually defending him.

"Anyway—she got completely hammered and well…" Eli pauses, stumped. "What happened exactly?"

"Well, you guys brought me back to bed, but I left after you'd gone to sleep. I snuck back to the kitchen, but on the way there I ran into Cha-Cha, and, well…"

"Broom cupboard, right?" Eli asks.

"Yup." I nod, shuddering slightly.

"Did you guys, like, talk first or just get right to it?" Pres asks tentatively.

I grimace. "Well, he asked me what was wrong and then I pretty much sobbed on his shoulder for ten minutes."

Pres seems at a loss to understand. "And he still wanted to bone you?"

Eli howls with laughter and gave him one of her rare and not-as-coveted-as-she'd-have-you-believe high-fives.

"I'm a very pretty crier," I say, offended. "Besides, that's his system—he preys on sad, vulnerable girls sneaking around at night."

Pres nods in approval. "Smart bloke."

Eli laughs again. "Oh, come on, Bri—you gotta admire his genius. I mean, it worked on _you_!"

"Fair enough," I grumble.

Eli looks wistful for a second before she says, "You know who I'd like to bone in a broom closet?"

Des looks up from his drink in horror. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

"Alec Wright," she says, staring off into space, her expression dreamy. "He's Mr. Right. You know, like Wright, but—"

"We all get it," I say quickly. "Des, nickname him."

"Scotty," he says without missing a beat. "Because he's Scottish."

"No, not Scotty—it's Mr. Right," Eli protests.

"I like Scotty," I say, shrugging.

"Let's resort to democracy, shall we?" Em says, blushing when Des grins at her. "All in favor?"

Everyone except Eli raises a hand.

"Scotty it is," Des says triumphantly.

* * *

We return to our shabby little house in the shady area around St. Mungo's after midnight. Eli, Des and I pooled our money to buy it after last year, eager to move out of the hospital dorms. It has three bedrooms, but only one bathroom. Yeah, things can get tense.

"Well, look who's here," Des mutters, nudging me. I glance up to see a figure leaning against our front door.

"Teddy!" The smile is impossible to repress. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long."

Eli scoffs, and I ignore her.

"Nope, not long at all." Today his hair is dark and his eyes are emerald. Regardless of how often he changes his look, I can always recognize him. His trademark, the thing that always stays the same, is his feathery, light brown eyelashes. I've never pointed this out to anyone, though, least of all Eli… I'd never hear the end of it…

I invite him inside. Eli and Des trudge upstairs after a hasty greeting, unenthused as always to see him.

"Sorry I can't offer you much," I say, embarrassed by the scarcity of snacks and drinks in the kitchen.

"Don't worry about it, I sorta dropped in on you."

I smile as we sit down on the couch in the living room. "What brings you to this part of town?"

"The scenery, obviously."

"Should've known."

"And the food."

"Of course."

"But, um, I actually came to see you, Bri." Teddy flashes a sheepish smile and my heart flutters cautiously.

"What about?"

"I'm kinda down about not being able to see Victoire until the first Hogsmeade weekend. That's over a month!"

Throughout the years of my friendship with Teddy, I've become rather good at hiding how frustrated I am at times. "Yeah…"

"I've never gone that long without seeing her. I already miss her."

"You should write her." The suggestion sounds sarcastic, but he doesn't seem to pick up on it.

"I already did. But I want to be with her to snuggle and stuff." He looks like a pouty little kid as he frowns and knits his eyebrows together.

It's really difficult not to roll my eyes, but I manage it. What's a nice way to say I don't give a shit? Maybe changing the subject would work… "Well, you can use this time apart to figure out what you want to do with your life, right? What job you want to get…"

He shrugs. "Haven't really thought about that yet."

That's typical Teddy Lupin. It's a shame Victoire is a year younger because he seems to be incapable of living his life a step ahead of her. His seventh year was a total waste because he was too busy re-living sixth with his girlfriend. I won't be surprised if he's completely paralyzed until she graduates. Then he'll kick it into high gear and get some high-status, high-paying job.

"You did pretty good on the N.E.W.T.s, though, right?"

Teddy scoffs. "Not as good as you did! I'm not smart."

No, you don't _try_. Big difference, kid. Although if you're as smart as, let's say, Eli, you don't have to try. Not too much resentment there.

"Well, you have to do something to support yourself," I point out.

"Yeah, I don't know, I'll get a job, don't worry about it." He sighs, glances at the clock. When I don't say anything, he continues, "Well, enough about my loser life, what about the Healer in training over here?" He gives my shoulder a friendly little shove.

"We just had our first day back. Nothing's really happened so far to talk about."

"Do you get paid yet?"

"No, not until next year. My mom's still sending me checks, though, because she wants me to 'focus on my studies' and not worry about a second job." I smile to myself, thinking of how frantic Des gets about his part-time clerk job at the Ministry. Eli's lucky (and rich) enough to live off a trust fund, but most of the interns have to work low-paying jobs to get by. Sometimes we'll score a research assistant post at the Hospital, which is convenient and infinitely better than serving food.

"That's nice of her," Teddy says. "Grandma's threatening to disown me if I don't get a job soon. I'm 'bleeding her dry' apparently…" He shakes his head and continues to grumble to himself.

I don't doubt that.

"I'll help you find one, if you want." Why did I just say that? I know how picky he'll to be… "Destin works at the Ministry, and they almost always have some sort of opening." Des will hate me for bringing him into this. Why do consequences seem of such little importance around this guy?

"Yeah, maybe, thanks." His brief smile leaves his face too quickly. Fine by me if he doesn't need my help. It stings a little though, if we're being honest. "Hey, I'm gonna run now. Sorry for dropping in on you."

"It's fine. Bye."

It's the goodbye hugs that are the worst. I temporarily forget what an imperceptive, self-absorbed git he can be and only think about how warm he is and how tall he is and how much I like my face pressed against his chest.

"Bye, Bri. Thanks." His sincere smile is the most adorable thing I've ever seen. He closes the door and I hear him Disapparate.

Why do I feel like crying?

* * *

**A/N: As you can tell, 99% of this story will be OCs… so if you like that, then good! There will be Teddy in every chapter, though, and Victoire will make an appearance as well. Beyond that though… OCs! Thanks for reading, and pleeease leave a review :)**

***The very unsophisticated Spanish that Eli and Bri speak translates to: "I would like to be in his pants." "Me too." Don't be too impressed now ;) And if you know Spanish better than I do and that doesn't make any sense, well… Eli & Bri only know Spanish as well as I do… how convenient... :P**


	2. Chapter 2

It's only the second day back and we're already bogged down with dull paperwork and errand-running. Each of us interns claims a few square feet of the worn-down carpet in the lounge to spread out and sort a depressingly thick and unorganized pile of papers. I don't see why we can't keep electronic records like the Muggles do.

"What'd you and Shifty talk about?" Eli asks. She must be bored out of her skull because she sounds genuinely interested.

"He wasn't here for very long," Des observes, glancing at me from under his thick eyebrows with a look of innocent inquiry.

"Yeah, he had to get going," I respond defensively. "And, you know, we just talked about stuff. Nothing important, really."

"'Stuff' is open to interpretation, Bri," Eli says, lining up the edges of her stack of paper. "So what are we talking about? Scandalous, secret-lover stuff or…"

"He was upset over being apart from Victoire," I grumble.

"Ah, so platonic, reluctant-confidant stuff."

"As usual." Des turns away to hide his grin.

"You guys are the worst friends ever."

"That's rich considering—"

Never before have I been so happy to hear Walker's voice.

"Schmitt, Raleigh," she barks. Em looks startled; I'm relieved at this point. "Take these down to the Psych Ward." She shoves some papers at us.

Never mind about the whole relief thing. I put on a brave face for Em as we start down the corridors teeming with purposeful Healers. We fight against the current for a good few minutes until we finally broke out into a less crowded area.

"Uh…" Em clears her throat. "The Psych Ward?"

"Yeah…" I grimace. "Just… prepare yourself. It can get a little intense."

She nods solemnly. I shove the door open and she follows me in. Immediately we are greeted by a man who stops pacing to lean down nose-to-nose with Em. She nervously takes a step backward and he keeps walking at a brisk pace, hands behind his back, shoulders hunched.

Em runs a hand through her hair. "So where are the Healers?"

If Eli was here she would joke that the woman playing chess by herself, or the man steadily ramming his helmeted head into the wall, was the respected Healer So-and-So—the eccentric type, as you can see, but extremely intelligent…

But I'm not Eli. So I smile reassuringly at her and lead her to the office. After witnessing a team of Healers sedating a wild-eyed young woman and confiscating a spoon that had somehow been fashioned into a dagger, we are able to hand off the papers and get on our way.

"Sorry about that… on your second day, no less…" I give her an apologetic look.

"Well, I figure I have to see that at some point." She sighs. "It's so sad."

"I know… a lot of the times they're incurable, too. It takes a special kind of person to work in the Psych Ward—I couldn't handle it."

"Are any of the interns interested?"

"I'm not sure… As far as specialization goes, Indie's been focusing on Potions since her first day—not too surprising—and Gabe and Rafa have been helping out in Pediatrics. The rest of us have been doing emergency training, but it's unlikely all of us will get a job in that department… There are only so many emergencies, after all."

"What else is there?"

I smile, remembering how little I knew about the hospital when I first got here. "Let's see… there's Lab stuff, which is a lot of Potions but also research; Maternity care; Hospice; Surgery, though you also have to know surgery for ER this is more scheduled, routine procedures; Physical Therapy; and a whole wing devoted to treating Muggles who have been exposed to magic. That includes a little bit of everything and a whole lot of memory-adjustment. Or you could specialize in creatures, diseases, spell damage, whatever and go from there. There's a lot of options."

"What are you interested in?"

"I guess Emergency care. It's pretty diverse, just whoever comes through the door needing immediate attention, so you need to be really good."

Em smiles wistfully. "Are you really good?"

The reflex is to scoff. "Not compared to Eli…"

"But are you good? Not compared to anyone?"

"I don't know." I shrug. "I guess I'll find out this year."

* * *

Over the past year, we've learned how to best time-manage our criminally short lunch-breaks: twenty-five minutes. Eli thinks we should unionize. I get a bagel pretty much every day, scarf it down, and then use the remaining fifteen minutes for something else. Today, it's writing a letter to my mum. I used to get a lot of crap from Eli and Des for writing my mum so often, until I explicitly told them to shut the fuck up. They don't bother me much about it anymore.

I tell my mum that nothing much has happened yet… that we love our new house… that the new interns are alright… that Bertie has retired… that Teddy is an unmotivated loser… I'm really going into detail on that last one so I'm startled when Walker storms up to the intern table in the cafeteria.

"Raleigh?!"

Em drops her sandwich mid-bite, her dark blue eyes perfectly round. "Uh, yes, Healer Walker?"

"I was reviewing the files that you alphabetized earlier this morning and I was only wondering—_do you know how to read?!_"

Em doesn't respond, only glances around in horror as the entire cafeteria looks on.

"Well, do you?" Walker hisses.

"Yes," she squeaks.

"Really?" Walker might as well have licked her chops as she scrutinized the timid girl. "Because I would like to know—" two files were thrust into Em's face, "—since when does 'Cooke' come before 'Cook' in alphabetical order?!"

Des glances at me, his eyebrows furrowed, a questioning and slightly amused smirk on his face.

Eli leans over to whisper, "I think she means 'Cooke' with an 'e' and 'Cook' without an 'e.'"

"Oh." Des doesn't look less confused. "Which one _is_ supposed to come first?"

"'Cook' without an 'e' comes first!" Walker screams. "Is this what they teach you idiots at Hogwarts these days?"

"I don't recall ever learning alphabetization at Hogwarts…" Eli muses. "There should really be a charm for that."

Walker gives Eli a legitimately threatening death-glare. Eli's mouth snaps shut and she sinks lower into her seat.

"The point is," Walker continues slowly, patronizingly, "this hospital is a respected establishment and we can't afford mix-ups like this. There are lives on the line." Her eyes bore into Em's. "I expect better."

She turns on her heel and exits the cafeteria. The other Healers, especially the younger one, send Em sympathetic glances—they've likely been through something like that on the road to becoming Healers.

Em is too rattled to eat and stares blankly at the edge of the table as we try to comfort her.

"Look, Em," Des says, "don't worry about that. It happens all the time. She's really into intimidation and public humiliation. We've all been through it at least once."

As all the second-years nod, a voice with a Scottish accent says, "All the time?" Alec Wright lets out a low whistle and winks at Eli… for some reason. "Looks like it's gonna be a long year then." He pulls up a chair into the space that Eli instantly creates. "I've never heard of anyone dying over a paperwork mishap."

"Well, that's the other thing: no one ever has," Eli says matter-of-factly.

"There are better ways to instill the sense that this work is life and death—because really, it is—but screaming at kids over alphabetization…" He shrugs. "Well, I'm new here—what do I know?"

"Seems like a lot," Eli says, leaning in toward him. "How long have you been a Healer?"

And just like that Eli monopolizes on the conversation, cutting everyone else out of it. I don't know how she does it.

"Did you catch that wink?" Des whispers to me.

"Yeah, of course! What was that all about?"

He shakes his head. "She gets what she wants."

Rafa glanced at them and back to us. "But he wouldn't really date her…"

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," I say, knowing full well how annoying Eli would be if she got her way with this on top of everything else…

"So how're you holding up?" Des asks Em, noticing that she has started eating her lunch again. I finish up the letter to my mum as he recounts to her his worst Walker encounter.

"…so I hand her the coffee and she takes a sip of it. I start to walk away because I think I'm done. Then she says, 'Lyon?' all sickly sweet so I know something's up. I turn around and the next thing I know I've been scalded with hot coffee all down my shirtfront. Apparently it was decaf. I maintain to this day, however, that she asked for decaf."

Em has stopped eating again, but this time it's because she's laughing too hard as he puts on a show of ridiculous facial expressions.

"They're cute, right?" I ask, nudging Rafa.

He's taken aback. "Eli and Scotty?"

"No, they're disturbing. I meant Des and Em."

He gives them a quick look. "Yeah, I guess."

* * *

Dinner that night was eaten on the couch in our living room, in front of a Muggle TV, which is actually one of the greatest things ever. Suddenly Eli turns it off and sits on the remote. Des and I begin sputtering protests.

"Guys—let's talk to each other over dinner like a _real_ family," she says.

"We are definitely not _any_ kind of family," Des says slowly.

"Well, I have something I would like to discuss."

"This is gonna be good," I mutter, reaching for another slice of pizza.

"I just want to see where you guys stand on age differences in relationships."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've only known Scotty for two days… don't tell me that…"

"Mr. Right and I are getting along quite well, thank you very much." She sniffs, sitting up straighter.

"And you basically just want us to approve of the age difference?" I ask unsurely.

"No, I don't need your approval. Personally, I'd go five years younger and… fifteen older."

I shake my head, laughing. Des meanwhile looks disgusted. "Fifteen?" he repeats incredulously. "That's… not right."

Eli shrugs indifferently. "Well, fifteen would be tops for a relationship. If it's just a couple good shags that could be extended at least five years."

"That's twenty years older than you!" Des exclaims.

"So? Harry Potter's like fifteen or twenty years older than me and I would… do things with him."

"Eli!" I admonish. "He's married and Teddy says he's a really nice bloke."

"Merlin, lay off, it's just an example. But honestly did you see him in Witch Weekly?" Eli pantomimes fanning herself, as if the room is unbearably hot. "He's aged well. No, not well, exquisitely. And those eyes…"

"And those glasses!" Des adds mockingly.

"I happen to think that the glasses make him look—"

"Let me guess—exquisite?" I suggest.

"I was thinking more like 'pensive,' but 'exquisite' is good, too. So what's your age range Bri?"

I sigh at the sudden shift in direction of the conversation. "I don't know. I like younger guys."

"Of course you do…"

"Oh, shut you. But I do think fifteen years is way too much of a difference."

Eli groans dramatically. "Come on, men peak in attractiveness in their thirties. Exhibit A: Mr. Right."

Des rolls his eyes. "Eli, you need help…"

"Do not!" she says indignantly. "By the way, what's your range?"

"I'd say three years on either end," he says with surprising readiness.

"That really narrows the possibilities," Eli comments thoughtfully. "And Merlin knows you need all the help you can get."

Des scowls at her avidly for a moment and then turns back to his drink. "I don't see why I put up with you, Eli."

She grins and snuggles against his shoulder. "You need me to deflate your ego."

"What ego?!"

"Honestly, Des is, like, the most modest person I know," I add.

"Well, that's obviously because I'm here," Eli says. "If I wasn't, he'd be such a douche." She punctuates her statement by affectionately pinching his check. I laugh patiently as Des threatens to kill her in her sleep. Yep, these are the people I live with.

* * *

**A/N: a little shorter second chapter… Thanks for reading and please leave a review! I know I didn't follow canon very closely in regards to the layout and functions of St. Mungo's, but… we didn't get a ton of details so I took some liberties :)**


	3. Chapter 3

After a few weeks back we're falling into a routine. The days pass more quickly and the first year interns are growing more comfortable. And everyone is pretty much okay with this. That is, everyone except for Eli.

"I'm so bored," she declares at lunch one day. "We haven't had anything more exciting than a good, bloody splinching."

I'm sure her comment's timing was strategic because Wright just happens to be arriving when she says this. He's taken to sitting with the interns because he's just as new if not newer than any of us—although Eli would have you believe his lunch table choice is due to her. She might be right, but I really hope she isn't.

"You want to see some action, Liz?" Wright says, his eyebrows making suggestive movements. If he isn't into her then he really shouldn't do that.

"Liz?" Des repeats under his breath. I shrug as way of answer.

"I'm dying for it," Eli responds. "I guess I'll have to wait for next year, though…" She trails off, her eyes hopeful.

"Well," Wright begins, stirring and tasting his soup, "not necessarily."

Her face brightens instantly. "Really?"

As he finishes chewing he motions her to lean in closer. She willingly obliges. I don't know why this show of secrecy is necessary, though, because I can hear every word from across the table.

"I've got a surgery next week. It's scheduled, fairly routine, but I need an assistant. And I know you're leaning toward Emergency Care, but you've got to start somewhere and any experience you can get will only—"

"I'd love to!" Eli interrupts. "Thanks so much!"

As they go over the details, I turn to Des. "You know, I heard that in professions where everyone has an above-average IQ there's no longer a positive correlation between intelligence and success."

He stares at me blankly. "Since when did you get all…" He doesn't finish, just looks me up and down. A moment later he says, "But your point is kind of irrelevant because Eli _is_ actually the smartest of us."

I cock my head. "So you did understand what I was getting at."

"Of course I did. I have an above-average IQ after all."

I frown. "Well, I was only saying that it's not because she's the smartest that she's going to go the furthest. It's because she's really pushy and will flirt with whoever it takes to get there."

"Wow." Des rocks back in his chair. "Someone's a little… bitter."

I deny this and shove his arm, almost knocking his off-balance chair over, and return to my lunch, confident that anything I might have revealed to him will remain strictly between us.

* * *

A knock at the door calls me away from a boiling pot of ramen noodles on the stove. I fling the door open and am surprised to see Teddy Lupin, smiling sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head.

"Oh, hi."

"Hi."

"Come in, please."

"Oh, it'll just be a—"

"No, really, I've got something on the stove." I scurry back to the kitchen, Teddy on my heels. As I continue stirring he boosts himself up on top of the counter, facing me.

"I, uh…" He shakes his head and restarts. "The Hogsmeade weekend is coming up."

"Oh… nice," I say, hoping he has more to say than that.

"Yep… Next weekend."

I nod my head, wishing he would take a hint and get on with it or leave.

"Do you… do you wanna come with?"

I turn to face him fully. "You want me to come with you… to Hogsmeade… on a date with Victoire?"

He laughs and slides off the counter. "It's not really a date, I'm just meeting up with her…"

"For the first time in a month…"

"Look, Bri," he says, slinging an arm across my shoulder. "I want you to come with. You're my friend. You're _Victorie's_ friend."

I don't think that's true…

He finishes with one word that never fails to break me: "Please?"

"Okay, I'll be there," I surrender, smiling at him before pouring the ramen noodles into a bowl. "Want something to eat?"

"Nah, I'm good." It's clear that he intends to leave already by the way he glances toward the door. "I'll see you next Saturday, then. Thanks, Bri."

I don't get a hug this time considering I'm holding a bowl of hot ramen noodles, but the warmth of his eyes (today they're bluer than the sky on a cloudless day) has the same effect. That is, transforming me temporarily into a useless, irrational blob. Bloody hell.

* * *

Tuesday is the day of Eli's surgery. She was very purposefully distant and preoccupied all day Monday probably to make sure we didn't forget. And if seemed to have forgotten she would casually let it slip into conversation. So we're all rather relieved today that it's almost over.

During our daily mid-morning paperwork sorting fest, however, Eli halves her stack and dumps one half on top of my pile and the other on top of Des's.

I glower at her.

"Please?" she begs. "I have to go prep with Alec—"

"Alec?" Des echoes. "First name basis already?"

"Just cover for me. Please." Eli smiles apologetically. As soon as I open my mouth to reply she claps me on the shoulder and says, "Thanks, Bri, you're the best."

"What about me?" Des sputters. "I'm helping out, too!" He's ignored.

"Wish me luck!" she says as she hurriedly exits the lounge.

"Good luck!" Rafa calls out to her retreating figure. When Des and I glare at him he gets defensive. "Just being nice… supportive… you know, like friends are supposed to?"

"Yeah, but we live with her," I explain, scowling at the now fifty percent larger stack of papers before me.

"Rafa and I would help," Gabe says, "but we gotta run."

"Pediatric thing," Rafa clarifies before they're both reabsorbed in their mundane task.

At this point Indie stands up and says, quite forcefully, "Finish up my work, too. I have to go collect some data on an experimental Potion in the lab." She flashes a smile that has no effect on her dark eyes and leaves the room.

"Well," Des mutters, shaking his head.

"I guess we're just unimportant losers." My thin top layer of humor doesn't disguise much, but Des only smiles.

"Us and Cha-Cha." He nods toward the ex-Gryffindor lazily flipping through papers across the room from us.

"Yeah, 'cause _that_ makes me feel better."

* * *

We've almost finished our lunch when Eli comes into the cafeteria and plops down next to me.

"Hey, guys," she says, smiling broadly.

Prior to this, all the interns made a pact not to ask her how her surgery went—just to wait and see how long she could stand it.

"Hey," we greet her, unenthusiastically.

"So…" She seems a little nervous now as she twists together two wispy strands of white-blond hair. "How was paperwork?"

"Great!" Des answers, his face and voice chipper.

"Well that's good." Eli's eyes flick over each of us; she's starting to grow visibly annoyed.

Then Rafa breaks. "How did it go?"

Des and I glare at him once again, but he actively avoids eye contact with us.

"Oh, my surgery?" she asks in a tone of phony nonchalance. "Yeah, it was fine, thanks. A great learning experience, really. I'd highly recommend assisting in a surgery for anyone who wants to be a Healer."

"So, us, basically," I say.

"Well, yeah! I'll put in a good word with Alec… or a different Healer if you like."

"Oh, you have influence with several, do you?" Des asks with mock interest.

"You _could_ pretend to be happy for me, Destin," she sniffs. "I'm just trying to help you."

"So," Rafa says, his pleasant neutrality cutting through the building tension, "what type of surgery was it?"

Eli goes on to detail all the new things she learned: the anesthesia spell, spells to open skin and reseal it afterward, spells to stop bleeding. "We used localized anesthesia so the patient was conscious the entire time. We were chatting with him and everything. We opened him up, removed the… uh…"

"The uh what?" I ask impatiently.

"Sorry, Healer-patient confidentiality," she says importantly, motioning sealing her lips and throwing the key away. I wish.

"Well you didn't tell us the name of the patient so I don't think it applies," Des says, his tone decidedly less rational than his words.

"Plus you're not even a Healer!" I snap.

"Alright, alright, geez." Eli holds up her hands in surrender. "It was a tumor. We got it out and closed him up, gave him some pain potion and sent him on his way as soon as we lifted the anesthesia spell. Pretty simple."

"Simple?" Des repeats. "I thought it was, like, the most amazing experience of your life!"

Just as the conversation seems like it might take a nasty turn, Wright strolls in and Eli seems happy enough to forget about it.

"Liz!" he calls out, winking again. "Nice job today."

"Thanks," Eli says brightly. "You too, partner." They do a little secret handshake and he goes on his way. She looks about to swoon as she rests her chin in her hand and sighs.

"Okay, what's with the 'Liz' thing?" I ask in exasperation.

"Alec prefers to call me Liz. He thinks it suits me better because it's more feminine."

"You don't mind that he doesn't like your self-given nickname?" I remember when she used to go by Liz for about a month in second year until she decided she hated it. She also had stages where she went by Lizzy, Ellie, Beth, Liza…

"No, he likes 'Eli' just fine; he just prefers a more feminine name for me… So it logically follows that—"

"Yeah, yeah, that he wants to bang you." Des rolls his eyes.

"Well, if he did it would make sense that he doesn't want to call me a boy name!"

The conversation ends when Wright joins us at the table with his lunch—plus those of us interns who didn't recently assist in a surgery have to return to other duties. I don't have much of a problem with that.

* * *

One added responsibility of second year interns interested in emergency care is a few all-night shifts at the hospital. They let us take care of anything minor ourselves (mostly alcohol-related splinchings), but the receptionist calls in an actual Healer for anything much more intense than that. Des and I are assigned to the very first one—and it's tonight.

"Short notice, much?" Des protests when Walker mentions this to us right when we're about to head home.

"What plans would _you_ have?" Eli asks, smirking at him.

"Well, I—"

"Des is rather attached to several Muggle game shows," I say as an aside to Em. She smiles as she pulls on her coat.

Once everybody has left, however, we start to get excited.

"I hope something good happens," I tell him.

"By which you mean something bad…" Des grins. "Because when people come to the emergency room it's typically a bad thing."

"Okay, I hope we can outdo Eli then."

"That's the spirit."

"Ethics are sort of a gray area."

"To you, anyway."

We sit on a bench in the hall for a good half hour and nothing happens. The lights don't even flicker.

"So… the weekend's coming up," Des says, squinting at the ceiling and tilting his head back and forth. I have no idea what he's doing, but if he's managing his boredom then good for him.

"It's Tuesday," I reply dryly.

"It's still coming… slowly, but surely. Got any plans?"

I wince involuntarily thinking ahead to how he'll react to my weekend plans. "Yep… I'm gonna go to Hogsmeade."

"Oh. "His surprise seems genuine. "Why's that?"

"Uh… Teddy invited me…"

"Wait a second…" Des stops examining the ceiling and turns to face me, his eyes narrowed. "It isn't a Hogsmeade weekend, is it? I mean for Hogwarts?"

"Um…" My faked ignorance seems painfully obvious to me. "It might be… Yeah, I guess it is."

"Bloody hell, Bri, what's the matter with you?"

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't know whether or not it's a Hogsmeade weekend, it doesn't seem all that—" I attempt keeping up my charade even though it's useless.

"Isn't Victoire going to be there?"

"Yeah, I suppose she will be." I stare back at him in defiance.

"And you think that that's going to—?"

"Des," I interject, cutting him off as his voice grew precariously louder, "can we not talk about this right now?"

"Fine," he yielded, "but let's find some way to entertain ourselves or I'll go crazy."

"Like what, injuring each other and playing doctor? Can I go first?"

"Don't look so hopeful, Bri."

A few minutes later we are pushing each other down the long, sterile corridors in wheelchairs and gurneys, laughing harder than anyone should in such a somber place. We explore closets and offices and discover secret staircases and elevators in the vast building. In the early hours of the morning, before the sun bursts over the horizon, I briefly fall asleep at a chair in the cafeteria, head resting on the table, while Des rummages through the refrigerators and cupboards in the back. I'm nudged awake and offered a bagel and some coffee, but all I really want is to sleep. I groggily eat, chewing each bite more than necessary, and repeatedly scalding the roof of my mouth with the coffee.

"Does this mean we get tomorrow off?" Des asks. "Or today, I guess."

"I hope so."

"It'd be cruel to make us stay awake for another eight or nine hours."

"Eli's right, we should unionize."

"You should get some sleep."

"Will you push me in the gurney again?"

* * *

We are fortunately given the next day off and arrive home just as Eli is leaving for work.

"How'd it go?" she asks as we flop onto the couch.

There's an unspoken agreement between Des and me as he says, "Oh, it was great. Three splinchings and a Hinkypunk attack, can you believe it?"

"We're exhausted." I effectively demonstrate this with a monstrous yawn.

"I can imagine…" Eli says, seeming suspicious. "Where were the splinchings?" she asks cautiously.

"A fingernail and a chunk off a nose and a chunk off some bloke's heel," Des answers readily.

"Which fingernail?" Eli persists, a bit more testily.

"Left ring-finger," I reply, a challenge in my slight smile as I hold up the corresponding finger.

She stares back evenly for a minute before she says, "Well, you'll have to tell me about the Hinkypunks later; I've got to get to work. Get some rest, you two."

Once the door is closed Des quips, "You should've said middle-finger. Good excuse to flick her off, right?"

"We've got to get our story straight," I say sleepily. "I know a thing or two about lying. We need to incorporate meaningless details… And use hand gestures and we can't answer questions too quickly… And we can't say the exact same things or she'll know we're lying…"

Des looks at me, amused. "You need to sleep. We'll polish up our lying strategy when we're rested."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please leave a review! What do you think of the OCs and Teddy? Got any predictions? :)**


	4. Chapter 4

"Any plans for the weekend?" Eli asks casually. She's sitting at the kitchen table, looking at herself in a mirror. One of her hands is held over half of her face firmly, pulling down. The eyebrow of her exposed side is making small twitchy movements and it seems to be costing her a great effort.

Taking the opportunity to sidestep her inquiry, I ask the obvious question. "What are you _doing_?"

"Strengthening my eyebrow muscles," she replies as if it should've been obvious.

"And why are you strengthening your eyebrow muscles?"

"So I can raise one eyebrow at a time, duh. I think I should be able to teach myself." Eli drops her hand and relaxes her scrunched-up face for a moment. "It's an important skill. I need to be able to do this for times when I correct someone's grammar or make a sexually suggestive comment."

I chuckle lightly. "You're going to be raising your eyebrow after everything you say."

"That's the plan." She goes back to her exercise as Des walks into the room. He opens the fridge, stares at the food, or lack thereof, and closes the door. "Speaking of plans," Eli continues, "this weekend?"

"Oh, I was gonna go to Hogsmeade to visit my mum."

Eli and Des share a quick but not so subtle glance. Des looks nervous, Eli smug.

"You told her," I conclude, shaking my head at Des and folding my arms.

He sighs. "You know what—I _did_ tell her—"

"Obviously."

"—and I'm glad I did! Because you, Bri, are a masochist."

I raise an eyebrow and Eli looks jealous. "Come again?"

"You're a _masochist_!" he repeats. "Who goes to lunch with the guy she's in love with and his _girlfriend_?"

"I'm not 'in love' with him," I scoff.

"Oh, get real," Eli says, rolling the eye that's not covered by one hand.

"I mean, who _does _that?" Des continues. "What do you think is going to happen? _Nothing _good could possibly come out of this!"

"Look, guys," I say, a bit startled by his intensity. "Teddy invited me and I'm going. He wouldn't have invited me if he didn't want me to be there and we're friends, so what's the big deal?"

"You could've said no and I really doubt he would've minded," Des says. "Think of all the possible excuses. It would've been fun to come up with a really good one!"

"Why do you care so much? It's one Saturday. No problem."

"It's never just one Saturday," Eli mutters, her eyebrow still moving erratically up and down.

"Exactly," Des agrees. "You always mope for, like, weeks afterwards."

"Not weeks," I protest quietly.

Eli drops her hand and tries to raise a single eyebrow. Both of them shoot up.

"Keep working at it," Des says.

"Damn it." Eli claps her hand back over her eye.

Thoroughly annoyed at this point, I throw my hands up in the air. "Well, sorry, but my friend asked me to meet him in Hogsmeade, and I told him I would. I'll try to keep the moping to a minimum. See ya."

* * *

I arrive in Hogmseade among throngs of Hogwarts student, bright-eyed and meandering around the streets much too slowly for my taste. I shove my way through to the Three Broomsticks and go inside. My response when I see Teddy alone at a booth is equal parts delight and trepidation.

Harshly, I remind myself that I'm being stupid and I slide in across from him in the booth.

"Hey, Bri." I can't detect a trace of disappointment in his voice that his part-Veela girlfriend is running late. His sapphire-blue eyes are literally sparkling, as they crinkle under the effect of his warm smile.

Merlin, they really are meant for each other. The Veela and the Metamorphmagus. A match made in heaven by, presumably, an extremely attractive god.

"How're you, Teddy?" I ask, slipping out of my jacket.

"Good. I'm working now." He leans over the booth when he talks to me, looking up into my face. "Thought you'd be proud of me."

"I am! Where do you work?"

"Il Giardino."

My mouth is suspended in a slightly open position as I decide which question to ask first. He spares me the trouble.

"It's an Italian restaurant in London. I'm one of the main chefs."

Of course he is. "Is it a Muggle restaurant?"

"Yeah, it's really good and gets great reviews."

I decide against pursuing an explanation for his unwillingness to get a job in the Wizarding world for the time being.

"You should eat there sometime."

"Yeah, maybe. Is it expensive?"

"It's worth it. I promise."

I shake my head, laughing. "You don't understand—I'm not getting paid. At all. I don't have enough money to splurge on fancy Italian food."

"Right. How's all that going?"

As soon as I start telling him about life as an intern at St. Mungo's, he appears disinterested, craning his neck to check the door every few seconds, and look out the window. He doesn't notice when I stop talking altogether because Victoire has arrived.

Teddy hops up and greets her with a kiss that at first seems appropriately reserved—until he doesn't pull away. I look away quickly, twisting two strands of my brown hair together. When they join me at the table, Victoire sits with her back against the wall and rests her legs across Teddy's lap, who is happy enough to massage her feet and occasionally tickle her under her knees, which she responds to by whacking him playfully with the menu. After a while I guess even they get tired of their flirty banter, dripping with suggestiveness, and they order some drinks and start to chat more seriously about school and Teddy's work.

"Italian food!" Victoire gushes, her huge Veela-eyes glowing. "I didn't know you could cook!"

"Oh, baby," he whispers in a voice that's not as low as he thinks it is, "I can do _anything_ with my wand."

"Mm." Victoire pulls him in for another kiss, but their smiles are too uncontrollable to keep it up for long. I think that makes it worse, actually.

"I just want this year to be over," Teddy whines. "You'll be out of Hogwarts and we'll be together… and Bri will be a Healer!"

I nearly drop my consoling friend, a glass of some kind of burning alcohol, at the sudden mention. "Uh, yeah," I stutter, wiping up the bit that sloshed out onto the table with a wad of napkins. "Yep, I'll get paid… finally."

Victoire smiles so supportively at me that I almost forget why she makes me want to jump in front of the Hogwarts Express. Then Teddy inexplicably plants a kiss on her perfectly pointed nose. Oh, right. That's why.

Thinking that maybe Des and Eli were right, I place a hand over my slightly nauseas stomach and announce that I think it's time for me to leave. They both initially protest, but the second I repeat myself they're happy enough to accept it and wish me on my way. I quickly decide that returning home early would just give Eli one more reason to be smug, so I pop into my mum's little place in town.

She's as thrilled as always to see me, and spends the first half hour that I'm there dashing about the kitchen, throwing together something for me to eat—even though I make it very clear that I'm not hungry. Once she's satisfied with a plate of cookies, bars and candy, she sits me down on the couch and plops it in my lap.

"Thanks, Mum," I've just barely said when she pops back up to get me something to drink. She returns with a glass of milk and delivers it straight to my hand. "Do you want anything?" I ask after taking an appreciative sip.

"Oh, no, I'm fine! How are you? How's work going? What brings you to Hogsmeade?"

My head spins with questions as she piles them on. I cut her off before she can continue with a quick summary of the past few weeks. Once I start talking she's all ears. I don't risk this by stopping, even if it's to eat some of those admittedly delicious-looking cookies. I tell her about the night shift that Des and I did a couple days ago, and about the surgery that Eli helped with during the past week.

"Are you going to do a surgery soon?" she asks me, her eyes excited.

I cram a cookie into my mouth giving me some time to chew and think. "Very good cookies, thanks," I say before taking a long drink of my milk. "Yeah, I don't know, most second-year interns don't assist in surgeries, like Eli did—she just assisted, she didn't actually perform one—but maybe I will before the year's over. Who knows?" Thinking I sidestepped it well enough, I continue on, "I was in Hogsmeade today with Teddy… and Victoire."

"Oh, is he still with her?"

"Yep…" I sigh, wondering how much time I surrendered to my mum and her relentless line of questioning when I knocked on her door.

"They've been together for a while then, haven't they?"

"You're telling me…"

"She's a nice girl, though, when I've seen her."

I give her a look that very pointedly asks which side she's on, and then demands that she be on mine. It's really not much to expect from your own mother!

"Oh, I'm sorry, Bri. You still fancy him?"

I'm glad she didn't say "in love with" but I don't think "fancy" is better; it sounds silly, like a crush.

"Yeah, I do, but…" I shake my head. "I don't know, it's stupid."

"Oh, honey…" She pulls my legs across her lap, looking like she would take the weight of the world off my shoulders if she could.

"It's just… if I had half as much Veela blood in me as Victoire I'd have him wrapped around my finger!"

"Of course you would," my mum says, stroking my hair. "But maybe it's good that you don't… maybe you two aren't meant to be.

I groan. "I don't care about 'meant to be'! Teddy is…"

"Perfect?" she supplies with a bittersweet smile. "I know that he's always as handsome as he wants to be, but… what's he been doing since he graduated beside writing his girlfriend and bleeding his grandma's retirement fund dry?"

I laugh despite myself. "That's… pretty much it, actually. Ooh, and he's working in a Muggle restaurant."

"He must get nice tips."

"He's a chef, actually."

She shakes her head, chuckling. "That's my point, though: you're on the fast-track to becoming a Healer. You're way out of his league."

I smile, nestling against her shoulder.

"Now, I've been hearing about Teddy nonstop for the past seven or eight years. There must be _someone_ else!"

A little embarrassed by this, I try to think of someone—_anyone_—else. I can't.

My mum begins guessing. "What about Destin? You two have been friends for so long…"

"We live together," I point out, shaking my head fervently. "Not gonna happen."

"Gabryle? He's always been so nice."

"But he's… Gabe."

"Rafael? He's a handsome young man."

"He's _too_ nice, almost."

My mum sighs and pats my knee. "Maybe you should just take a chance. It can't hurt."

"Maybe I'm fine with my life how it is now."

She raises an eyebrow, not needing to say anything for her message to be loud and clear.

"Well, I'm busy! Focusing on work."

"Not too busy to be a third-wheel on Teddy's dates."

"Mum, you sound like Eli! I don't need this from you."

"I'm sorry, you're right, sweetie." Her face lights up with a sudden though. "Eli's such a pretty girl, is she seeing anyone?"

* * *

Returning home I think that even the company of my meddling roommates will be better than that of my own mother. I find the two of them in the kitchen; Des seems to be on defense, backed into a corner, while Eli stands a few paces away from him, grinning smugly. This is nothing unusual, so I jump right into it.

"I _have_ to get Teddy out of my head. This kid is going to kill me."

Eli nods in a way that implies I didn't say anything she didn't already know. "So, how'd third-wheeling it go?"

Why am I best friends with a less polite and more selfish version of my mother? "I didn't stay very long," I admit. "Nothing really happened."

"Oh!" Eli exclaims theatrically. "_Nothing_ happened? Nothing happened… at all?" She takes a few slow steps toward Des as she says this. He looks past her to shoot me an apologetic look.

"Wait a second…" I rapidly glance between Eli and Des, putting it together. "Des, you told?"

"I'm sorry, but you know how Eli is… She's ruthless!"

"He snapped like a twig," Eli coos with malicious enjoyment. "I caught him on the details of the alleged Hinkypunk attack."

"You're not mentally healthy," I comment, annoyed that this is taking time away from my much-needed venting.

"Me? You guys lied to me! Why would you lie about something like that? I don't get it."

Her voice is a little too loud. I have no doubt in my mind that she knows exactly why we lied about the content of our first night shift; she just wants to hear us admit it. Neither Des nor I will give her that pleasure. The three of us have never had the most stable relationship.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

It's around lunchtime on a Thursday when the Healers hold some important meeting and the interns are left in charge for about forty minutes. It's less exhilarating than we expect it to be. The four of us emergency care bound second-years are stationed in the ER, eating our lunches.

"So, basically it's a longer lunch break," Eli says.

"Unless something happens," Cha-Cha adds ominously.

"What are the chances?" Eli takes a solid minute chewing and swallowing a bite of her sandwich. "I feel so spoiled with all this time!"

I've been done with my usual bagel for almost ten minutes now.

"We still have twenty minutes," Des groans. "I'm so bored…"

"What?" Eli leans back and props her feet up on the table. "I'm loving this! We should do this more often!"

No one has time to respond because the doors fly open suddenly and a young girl is wheeled in on a gurney. Eli's sandwich falls to the ground as she leaps to her feet; the other three of us remain dumbstruck around the table. A Mediwitch hurriedly and urgently briefs Eli as she washes her hands and dons her uniform. By now the rest of us are scrambling to catch up, but my hands are shaking, making it hard to pull on my gloves.

I hear the Mediwitch say that the girl is six year old—and a Muggle. It's a werewolf attack, but recent. Eli thanks her and strides up to the girl with no hesitation. There are long gashes across her face and neck; her body is racked with violent spasms and she's not entirely conscious.

"Werewolf transformation reversal procedure," Eli calls out over her shoulder to the rest of us. "Got it? Let's go."

I exchange a terrified glance with Des. Transformation reversal? There's a _procedure_ for that? How does she remember all this? How is she not freaking out?

The Mediwitch sens a message to the professional, experienced Healers and briskly leaves the room.

"They'll be here soon," Des says weakly.

"Not soon enough. Guys, some help over here?" Eli says as she steadily moves her wand over the girl's wounds. "Cha-Cha, go grab a lycanthropy antidote."

Cha-Cha's eyes widen but his feet don't move.

"Now!" Eli barks and he sprints out of the room toward Potions.

"She's early enough in the transformation that we should be okay," Eli says absently. Des and I stand behind her, flanking her, helplessly looking on. The girl's spasms are getting worse. "Can you guys hold her arms for me?" Eli asks calmly, dodging one her flailing limbs. Des and I obediently grab her hands and pin them down to her side, struggling against her surprising strength.

Cha-Cha comes back, panting and red-faced, a vial of potion in hand, just as the Healers are arriving. They take over, administering the potion. Wright and another Healer, Marina Horsey, stand to the side with us interns.

"Good work, really," Horsey says. "Your initiative might have saved her life. Few Muggles survive werewolf transformations."

Eli's pride at the praise shines through her professional, solemn mask. "Thank you. You know, I just leapt into action. There's no time to hesitate, you have to trust your instincts. I just stopped the bleeding, which I guess also slowed the spread of the poison, and told Cha—uh, Chase to get the antidote and Destin and Brielle helped me secure her so I could perform some healing spells."

Wright and Horsey nod in approval.

"Great leadership," Wright comments, placing a hand on her arm. "Emergency situations really separate the wheat from the chaff."

I don't know if Des, Cha-Cha and I are the wheat or the chaff in this saying, but I do know it's not supposed to be flattering to anyone besides Eli. And she knows this, too.

By now the girl, Stephanie, is subdued, sleeping peacefully on the gurney, but her wounds are still violently red and black, crusting around the edges. The three head ER Healers nod seriously to the rest of us. We sigh in relief. A couple pediatricians come in at this time, accompanied by Gabe and Rafa. They give us a wave and leave the room, Rafa pushing the gurney as Gabe flips through Stephanie's clipboard.

I glance at Des and we both exhale, letting out a breath that it feels like we've been holding for the past five minutes.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the interns are assigned to the glamorous task of cleaning bedpans. All we really have to do is point our wands at them, but that doesn't make it any less disgusting. We've barely even started when Wright pops his head in the door.

"Eh, can I borrow Liz for a sec?"

Eli apologizes to the other interns and whispers, "Thank you," to Wright as they head off to a better place. We can hear their laughter as it echoes down the hall.

"I was wrong," Des mutters from next to me.

"What?"

"This day just got worse."

I smile to myself, but it fades as soon as my mind turns back to this afternoon's work. "Yeah today was pretty bad."

He grins and elbows me. "The day's not over yet! And we've established that it's capable of getting worse."

"Great…" I roll my eyes.

"Honestly, though—could you believe that? A werewolf attack? I don't remember ever learning how to deal with that…"

"Learn on the job I guess."

We're quiet for a few minutes. Then Des says, "After today, I'm not sure if I'm cut out for emergency care."

Surprised, I turn away from the bedpans. Des doesn't look at me.

"But… it was gonna be—"

"Yeah, the three of us, I know. But it hasn't been that for a while. Even though we're roommates now it's been so different ever since we graduated."

I don't say anything knowing that's true.

"I just don't think it's realistic that the three of us will go into emergency care together. And I don't know if I want to anymore."

"What would you do instead?"

"I don't know." He shrugs, but seems content with his uncertainty. "What about you, Bri?"

"What about me?"

"Do you still want to go into the ER?"

I frown, furrowing my brow. "I don't know, Des. But I'm not gonna give up after one bad experience."

"I'm not giving up! I've changed—I've _grown_! I don't want to do whatever my friends are doing anymore."

"Because you're not good enough to keep up with Eli?" I challenge, cocking an eyebrow.

"Neither are you," he snorts.

Then, realizing what's been said, we make nervous eye contact and wordlessly agree to stop arguing. I keep thinking it through, though, all the way to the inevitable end had I fought back: we would've stopped talking for a few days and then I would've come to the decision of not going into the ER and pretended that it was one-hundred percent my idea all along. And Des would've let me get away with that.

I'm happy that we cut it off where we did.

* * *

A long day is lengthened when Eli insists we go out to dinner at her favorite sushi place. She always comes here when she's in a celebratory mood, and even though it's the last thing any of us want to do we agree for the purpose of not seeming bitter. The topic of conversation, predictably, turns to work. Rafa and Gabe give us an update on Stephanie, everyone's new favorite Muggle.

"She woke up just before we were going to leave," Gabe says. "We had enough time, though, to introduce ourselves and show her a few magic tricks."

"You showed her magic?" Eli gasps. I don't know why she's so concerned; she loves messing with Muggles.

"She's getting her memory modified, anyway," Rafa explains. "Besides, we have to use magic to heal her so it's not like she hasn't been exposed to it."

"We met her parents, too," Gabe recalls. "It was strange pretending to be Muggles, but they're under the impression that Steph was attacked by a Doberman and is being treated at St. Margaret's Children's Hospital."

"Modifying a Muggle's memory is much easier than a Wizard's," Rafa comments thoughtfully.

"Anyway, I'm going to teach her Exploding Snap tomorrow, and Rafa's going to teach her some Spanish," Gabe concludes.

Eli rolls her eyes and everyone sees it. Even though no one asks her to explain herself, she does. "I'm glad you two are having fun babysitting her."

Gabe isn't one to get angry, but even as he smiles his nostrils flare. He takes a long drink.

Eli, apparently not satisfied, continues, "I mean, how does entertaining a six year old end up in the same income bracket as saving said six year old's life?"

"None of us are getting paid," Gabe says evenly.

"Oh, shut up," Rafa says to Eli unexpectedly. "Congrats on saving her life—really. But now you're done with her. Gabe and I have to go in every day and meticulously update her charts and administer her potions at exactly the right time and keep her smiling through it all. Yeah, you do damage control. And that's important. But we do the real Healing—the stuff that takes time. Not all scars are on the outside, you know." Rafa leans back in his chair, arms folded.

More than one jaw is dropped around the table. Gabe begins applauding slowly, mercifully breaking the awkward silence. But Eli and Rafa maintain intense eye contact.

"You've had that in you for a while, there, Rafa?" Des jokes, scratching his elbow uncomfortably.

Rafa smiles and looks down to his lap. Eli relaxes, her body language signaling that she thinks she's won.

"Yeah, well—what I do is important." Rafa ducks his head, trying to catch Eli's eye, but she's reading the menu like it's a mystery novel. "I'd better go. Sorry for making things a little tense." He shrugs on his coat, takes another piece of sushi and he's on his way.

Des and I share a look of awe; of all the people who wanted to tell of Eli, who'd have thought it would be Rafa who'd actually do it?

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and PLEASE leave a review! This chapter just sort of flowed out of me, which is a good sign usually. Did it turn out okay?**


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday is, for some reason, typically the day that I'm in the worst mood. I think the stress of the week catches up with me and makes me unusually lazy and irritable. So, it does nothing but makes matters worse when Teddy shows up on my doorstep, unannounced like always. And, like always, I invite him inside.

So much for getting him out of my head.

As much as I love Teddy in theory, actually having him around pisses me off the majority of the time. We sit down at the kitchen table.

"I was just about to start making dinner. How about you show me how to make fancy Italian food?" I suggest.

He grimaces—not a good sign. "Look, Bri, I sort of… quit that job."

"It's been two weeks!" I cry in exasperation.

"Two and a half…"

"Teddy Remus Lupin," I scold, while realizing vaguely that I wouldn't have expected anything more of him than this.

"Cooking isn't my passion," he defends himself weakly.

"Oh, well, what's your _passion_ this week?" I ask sardonically.

"I'd like to be a musician. A recording artist.

I couldn't force myself to have any kind of reaction to that if I tried. Why do I so often feel like his disappointed mother? My face still blank, I say, "Are you here to ask me to join your band or something?"

"Nah, I'd definitely be a solo artist."

My deadpan routine slips. "Have you ever even played an instrument in your life?"

"I just bought a guitar this morning." His eyes are bright but I feel none of his excitement. "With the money I made working at Il Giardino."

"Oh, of course—a guitar. Instead of, oh, I don't know—paying rent?!"

"My Muggle landlord believes that I've paid him on time every month I've been there, but he keeps gambling away the money, poor bloke." Teddy winks, obviously proud of himself.

This time I'm serious: I can't do this anymore. "Why don't you just be a male model?" I mutter, half-jokingly.

Teddy's face very clearly conveys a life-altering epiphany. Oh, dear Merlin…

"Bri, you're a genius!" He scoops me up into an unexpected bear hug and then drops me back down. Then he rushes out of my house, apparently to pursue his newfound calling. Bloody hell.

* * *

Later that night, after a lonely and very un-Italian dinner, Des returns from his Ministry job and Eli from wherever she was all day.

"Bri, we got an all-nighter tonight," she says before she's fully in the door.

"Are you _kidding_?! What do these people have against advance warning?"

She shrugs and waits for me to get ready to leave. Des curls up on the couch with the TV remote and a bag of chips… taunting me as I wrench myself from the house.

"Okay, Des, we'll be back in the morning," Eli calls.

"Kay."

"Don't throw a party while we're gone."

"Ew. I hate parties."

I smile at him and he returns it sympathetically. "Have fun with your chips, Des. See ya."

We Apparate into St. Mungo's, pass through the lax night time security and head up to the ER. On the way there, we see a light on in a room down the hall. Always being ones for snooping, we peeked into the occupied room. I feel Eli tense beside me as we see Rafa sitting by Stephanie's bed, making little sparks and puffs of colored smoke with his wand that he hid cleverly up his sleeve. She giggles, completely enthralled.

"Well, _adios_, kiddo," he says to her, patting her blond head. "_Buenas noches_."

"_Buenas noches_," she echoes.

"_Hasta mañana_." When he stands up he sees the two of us just as Eli tries to flee the scene. I grab her wrist.

"Eli, grow up," I hiss, yanking her into the room.

Rafa seems less relaxes now as he stands straighter and his smile tightens. "Oh, Steph, these are my _amigas_, Bri and Eli. They're doctors here, too."

"_Hola_," she says brightly.

"_Hola_," Eli and I reply.

"Doctor Rafa's been teaching me Spanish," she says, nodding importantly.

"_Un poco_," he says, smiling fondly at the girl.

Eli fidgets with the sleeves of her robes, her eyes fixed on the ground. As Rafa tells Stephanie what '_un poco_' means, I whisper to Eli, "Don't be a baby."

He tucks the girl in, promises to come back first thing in '_la mañana_,' and turns off the light, but not before creating a magical night light: a perfectly safe floating flame that hovers in the corner.

The door to her room has barely been shut when Eli gushes, "I'm so sorry, Rafa. I was a jerk and I was wrong. What you do is really important and I couldn't do it."

I take a few steps away, pretending to be fascinated by a sign prohibiting visitors from using magic, while they quickly and quietly make up. Once Rafa leaves, Eli and I continue our journey to the ER.

"You think we'll get a real Hinkypunk attack tonight?" she wonders aloud. "Or will nothing happens and we'll lie to Des about it?"

"Remember what you just said about being a jerk?"

"Fine…"

For the first hour or so, the night seems to be on a similar course as my first uneventful night shift. We chat, or at least takes turns talking about ourselves. Eli overanalyzes something Wright said to her yesterday, and I perform my typical rant about Teddy. I practically have it scripted. Then, somehow, we both get bored of the competing narcissism game, and we're quiet for a while.

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom," Eli says. "Think you can hold down the fort till I get back?"

I roll my eyes in answer, hoping that something will happen in the next few minutes that will prove my competency.

Seemingly in answer to my wish, the door bangs open about thirty seconds later. Startled, I leap to my feet. The receptionist ushers in a tall young man who's clutching his ear. Blood is running between his fingers.

"Splinching?" I ask as he sits down on one of the cots. The receptionist asks where 'Reddor' is and I ignore her until she leaves.

"Uh, yeah," he admits. "Kinda embarrassing."

I smile as I wash my hands. "Can I take a look?"

He removes his hand. A small chunk of his ear is missing. It's pretty mild; I know I can handle this. By the time Eli comes back, he'll be all healed up and then I can exaggerate the severity of the injury…

The door opens again.

"Oh,wow! What do we have here?" That was fast. Eli struts in and grins flirtatiously at the bloke.

Of course, I was too busy saving his life to notice how attractive he is. Eli is so much less professional. No big deal.

She turns to pick up her wand that she had left on the counter. I act on impulse.

"_Confundo_!"

Eli turns around slowly, her blue eyes glazed over. She starts wandering around the emergency room, looking at her reflection in shiny things. The patient looks shocked and his ear is still bleeding.

Okay, maybe I'm not so professional either.

"What was that about?" he asks, laughing nervously.

"It's, uh… kind of a long story. Let's see about this ear." My face is burning as I hand him a vial of potion. I begin cleaning the wound, siphoning off the blood.

"I'm Sean, by the way," he says.

"Bri."

Nice to meet you." He pauses. "So about that long story…"

"Oh, it's not—"

"You just confunded another doctor when my life is possibly on the line." He grins up at me. "Don't I have a right to know why you would jeopardize my well being?"

"Oh, fine." I sigh and mutter the first healing spell. "She's my best friend, really. But she's… insufferable sometimes. She's way better than me at pretty much everything—and she knows it. I just wanted to prove to myself that I can do this."

I finish the healing spells, muttering them softly. His ear looks as good as new.

"Thanks," Sean says. "Feels great."

My hand's still on the side of his face. I rub my fingertips against the new skin, shiny and pink. He doesn't say anything—just continues looking up at me.

* * *

"So, uh…" Des coughs awkwardly. "What happened next?"

I blush. "I sorta ended up snogging him right there in the ER."

Des groans. "Is that ethical?"

"Probably not. But it was fun and no one is ever going to find out, right?"

"Eli?"

"She thinks she fell asleep in the bathroom."

Des shakes his head. "I can't believe you did that…"

"Confunded her?"

"Well, that too, but… are you really that sex-starved that you threw yourself at some idiot who splinched his ear half off?"

"In my defense, he was totally coming onto me."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry about the shortness of this one… they all turn out to be fewer words than I predict they will be! Anyway, please leave a review :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Once again, seven of us are crammed into a booth meant for six and our elbows bump as we clink our glasses together.

"I'm not sure what we're celebrating exactly," Pres says.

"Yeah, all she did was say, 'Next time don't get blood on your robes,' and walk away," Em points out, referring to Walker's reaction to her and Pres's splinch-job earlier that afternoon.

"For Walker, that's outright praise," Eli says knowingly.

"Yeah, and did you hear how long she hesitated?" Des adds. "She could hardly find anything wrong with it!"

"Honestly, her evaluations of my splinch-jobs _still_ make me cry," Gabe jokes. He, not unlike many others, has been driven to tears by Walker on more than one occasion. In fact, I think Eli is the only one who hasn't broken down—publicly at least. But maybe that's because she's a sociopath.

I really hope no one in my close circle of friends knows Legilimency. Eh, whatever.

Together, we achieve a respectable level of intoxication before leaving the bar. Em and Pres go back to the hospital dorms, and us five second-years keep walking through London, aimlessly. After a few blocks, we come across a Muggle store that has a huge advertisement plastered in the front window. It's a black and white picture of a very attractive bloke, with a dark, earthy look to him. I casually slow down, rubber-necking a bit as I pass. Eli isn't so discreet; she stops dead in her tracks, eyes wide.

"Do they sell those inside?" she asks eagerly, her hand on the door.

I'm not sure what the poster is promoting, actually, beside the model's perfect jaw line and flawlessly smooth skin. Then I notice something. Around his dark, narrowed eyes are light, feathery eyelashes.

"Oh, Merlin," I groan. "That's Teddy."

"What? That looks nothing—" Des stops. "Oh right, Metamorphmagus." He rolls his eyes as he says it. "But how can you tell?"

"I just… know him pretty well." My pitch increases as I say this, making it come out more like a question. Luckily, no one calls me out on it.

We gather around to examine the poster more closely, Eli not at all embarrassed to throw her arms across the glass and sigh dreamily, staring into his blown-up eyes. "Sometimes I don't blame you, Bri," she says.

I ignore her, squatting down to read the small, white print in the corner.

_Introducing Rafael Hugo Nazario's New Winter Line: Nieve_

Before I can say anything, everything else has read it.

"Um, identity theft much?" Des says indignantly.

Rafa looks alarmed. "I've only met him once or twice, I don't understand."

"Dude, you have the best name ever. Is this really the first time this has happened?" Eli asks.

"Yes," he snaps. "No one has ever stolen my name before, believe it or not."

"It's not really stealing, though, I mean…" I'm cut off by his harsh glare. "I'll talk to him," I promise.

* * *

The following afternoon, Stephanie is released from St. Mungo's, back to her parents. Eli, Des and I stop by to keep Rafa and Gabe company as she's leaving the hospital. Her memory has been modified thoroughly, as well as that of her parents, and it's likely she'll remember very little of her past week or so in the hospital. As the small, blond girl leaves, one hand in her dad's hand, the other in her mom's, Rafa and Gabe smile and give a small wave.

Her pale, delicate forehead crinkles. She waves back, no recognition in her eyes.

Rafa and Gabe smile solemnly after her, until she's out the door. "Back to work," Gabe mutters and they venture off down a corridor.

* * *

That night, I turn the tables on Teddy, showing up unannounced at his flat. It occurs to me that he might be out, as the door isn't answered immediately. But sure enough, it opens, Teddy peering out at me.

He looks the same as always, in his face, at least, but his eyes are an unremarkable shade of brown, and his hair is much darker and shorter. I realize that he's wearing a suit, and forget the reason I came over to wonder about the unexpected formality of his attire and also why he doesn't wear suits more often. Because, of course, he pulls is off marvelously.

"Hey, Bri, this is great, I was just trying out a new look." He claps me on the shoulder, steps away from the door to let me inside and then puts on a very serious face as he rolls his shoulders back impressively.

Then I remember why I came. "Is this about this modeling thing? Whose name are you gonna steal this time?"

He looks puzzled for a second, then seems to catch on. "Oh, right, that. I hope old Rafa doesn't mind, I mean… I could pay him royalties, if he wants."

"So, you're making a lot of money?" I ask, taking in the sophisticated interior of his flat: all straight lines, sharp angles and muted shades.

"Oh, a ton, it was great." He smiles wistfully, twisting his tie in his fingers.

"Was?" I pick out the only noteworthy word in the sentence with the efficiency of someone who has put up with Teddy Lupin for years.

"Yes, I'm afraid my days as Rafael Hugo Nazario are done."

"Days. Literally. It's been days. How much money could you possibly have made in a few days?"

"Oh, plenty. But that whole life didn't suit me well." He smirks, gesturing to his suit and I give him a murderous look which effectively gets the smile off his face.

"Okay, so what are you calling this character?" I ask, giving him another once over. "Lord Chesterfield the Third?"

"That's good, that's really good, but… too royal. And too long, it wouldn't fit on a bumper sticker very well…"

"Teddy. What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"I'm running for Parliament."

I didn't actually see this one coming. But as usual it does not amuse me. "Teddy. Honestly."

"But don't I look professional? I've got the clean-cut dark hair and reliable brown eyes. It's a very trustworthy combination, you know, there's been studies…"

I doubt the integrity of those studies.

"Anyway, I'm going for thirty-five."

"Years old or terms?"

"Years old, obviously. So what do you think?" He plasters a grin on his face, pivoting around and waving.

"Teddy. You're eighteen years old."

"I _know_ that, but I bet I could get the Muggles to think I'm thirty-five."

"You don't look a day over twenty-five, tops."

Gray streaks appear around his temples and his skin becomes more worn-looking, smile lines popping up. "How's that for thirty-five?"

"Teddy, you don't know anything about politics. You have no credentials, no experience—you can't metamorphmagus yourself a law degree."

"Bri, let's get real. These are Muggles we're talking about. Besides, I'm an excellent orator. That's the only real requirement. And money, but I've got loads of that."

"Teddy—"

"The modeling thing wasn't panning out. It was boring and I felt objectified."

"Don't tell me you honestly mind being objectified."

"Well, no, but I'm learning new words as part of my campaign preparation—hey, would you like to be my manager? I still need a name though, something catchy, short, easy enough to pronounce and remember."

He takes a breath and I jump at the chance to cut him off. "Teddy Lupin—"

"Nah, that won't work, Lupin is too weird, and besides the Ministry wouldn't like it too much to have wizards messing around in Muggle politics, I'm sure there's some charge they could get me on."

"Teddy, can you shut up for two seconds so we can talk about the real issue here?"

"The real issue is voter-turnout, honestly, if we can get people to show up we've got it in the bag—does this mean you agree to be my campaign manager?"

"Why won't you want any wizard jobs?"

"Job outlook's better in the Muggle world, not to mention the inherent advantages I have from being a wizard. The Confundus Charm, for example, has come in handy in several job interviews."

"So you're just taking the easy way out."

His gray hairs and wrinkles begin to fade as he apparently becomes too distracted to keep the appearance up. "Well, no… well, maybe a bit. But I'd rather be a wildly successful Muggle than a loser Wizard."

"But Teddy, you're not a Muggle. You don't get to choose." By this time his looks are entirely back to normal, giving away that his thoughts are focused inwardly, making it difficult for him to hide who he really is. This is something I've witnessed a few times, but it only removes the scabs I've formed over the soft-spot for him that I've had forever. I place a hand on his knee, reassuringly, and to my surprise he swats it away.

"This suit costs more than your house," he mutters absently.

After a few seconds our eyes meet and we burst out laughing. When we've run out of breath, he's allowed me to settle comfortably against the shoulder of his expensive suit and he's thrown his arm around me.

"Will you tell me the truth?" I whisper. "Please?"

"Alright." He sighs in good-natured defeat. "It's because of my parents, actually."

"Oh." He rarely talks about his parents, so I'm careful not to say anything to discourage him.

"Just, they're legends, you know?" he continues. "And I've never known them, but I've heard so much—enough to know that I could never live up to that. They're Order of the Phoenix, war hero martyrs. How am I supposed to compete?"

My whole chest is filled with the warmth of pride—pride that Teddy trusts me enough to tell me this, pride that I get to keep his secrets. "It's not a competition. Those were different times. You can't be a war hero when there is no war."

"But I should've been an Auror, or something."

"It's not too late!" I assure him.

"Yes it is! I don't have the grades to get into Auror training. I've completely let down my parents."

"Teddy, they'd just want you to be happy and safe. And you are… right?" I'm only a little ashamed for hoping that he'll spill about how unhappy his relationship with Victoire is. Then I could wrap his tie around my fingers and pull him to me and get him to forget about how much money he wasted on that stupid suit and leave it in a heap on the floor…

It's a slap in the face to hear him say how entirely happy he is, undercutting my misguided fantasy.

"Well, see? That's all they'd want." I pause before adding, "Though, for the record, a job in the Wizarding world would be a good idea."

"Thanks, Bri. You always know what to say."

"My pleasure." I smile at him and we're face-to-face for a while. I'm worried that I'm blushing, or that I've got acne or bad breath.

"I haven't told anyone else that. Ever," he confides, maintaining the almost unbearably intense eye contact.

I bite my lip, hoping that he finds it attractive even as I do it. I force myself to ask the question that will ruin everything. "Victoire?" I breathe.

He looks down, and we shift apart. "No," he admits. Even so, the mention of her doesn't fail to change the trajectory of our conversation.

"Why not?" I ask. His arm has left my shoulder. Taking a hint, I've moved away from him, keeping a platonic distance.

"She wouldn't understand; she always aims so high."

It's difficult not to scoff at this comment. I realize it didn't take very long to get back to my typical feelings about Teddy—that is mild aggravation and lack of empathy. Either way, I know I won't be able to get this night out of my head until another like this occurs. And such is the insidious effect of Teddy Lupin.

* * *

**A/N: If you've been wondering why Bri even gives Teddy the time of day, I attempted to answer that in this chapter. Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Mercifully, Christmas brings a two week long holiday, though as second-years it's possible to be called in for emergencies.

"I'm not coming in," Des says firmly. "I don't even care. What are they gonna do?" He throws things haphazardly into a ratty old suitcase, while Eli and I watch him, 'helping' as he asked us to.

"Well, they _could_ kick you out of your internship, and you'd have to full-time it down at the Ministry, bringing people coffee." Eli smiles wickedly. "Plus, you'd be homeless because there's no way we would be friends with you anymore."

"You should know by now that you can't talk tough around Eli," I tell him.

"Yep, 'cause I see right through all that crap to the goody-goody little softie you are on the inside." Eli grins, ruffling his hair in a way he clearly doesn't appreciate.

Poor long-suffering Des. Maybe homelessness would be a favorable option for him at this point.

"I'm not leaving a Caribbean cruise to come back to this constant abuse." Des turns toward me, the less abusive of his roommates. "I'll be back in a week, though. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," I respond. "We can do presents for each other when you get back then, since, well… I haven't got you anything yet."

Eli comments to herself that I've already got _her_ something, which she wouldn't know if she didn't snoop through my closet so often.

"Alright, sounds good." Des and I move haltingly and a tad awkwardly into a hug, but once we get through that phase it's comfortable enough.

"Aww," coos Eli, living up to her usual standard of obnoxiousness.

Des quickly double checks that he has everything, and we reassure him that he does and shove him toward the fireplace. He floos to his parents' house, but a few seconds later he's back.

"Forgot my tie…" he announces, marching up to his room. "There are formal dinners, apparently," he snaps in answer to our questioning looks.

"Your 'tie,'" Eli says loudly while he's upstairs. "As in singular. As in the only tie you own."

"Oh, shut up," he growls, grabbing another pinch of floo powder.

"And a Happy New Year," Eli grins, waving him off once more. This time he doesn't return and we sit on the couch in silence for a minute. "I'm gonna miss that kid," Eli says wistfully.

* * *

Early afternoon on Christmas Eve, Eli and I pack a few things and Apparate to Hogsmeade. It's really the best place to be on Christmas, a solid foot of snow coating the whimsically sloping roofs of tiny cottages. My mum lives in a flat above a dusty little bookstore, where even the many ceiling-high shelves aren't sufficient to house the vast number of books, which often end up stacked in teetering towers on the floor. My mum is convinced that the owner, along with his two cats, lives in this shop full time. The evidence is rather compelling: a mattress stored between two shelves, and the inexplicable presence of a four-slot toaster and used frying pan among the stacks of books.

In comparison to this character of a place, my mum's flat is absolutely barren. She lives in a state of cleanliness that is all at once unfathomable and comforting to me, a nineteen year old who lives with her two best friends and is still fuzzy on the finer points of doing laundry.

Eli has spent Christmas with us before, when she could get away with it—and from her family. This time around she's been complaining about her older brother John's new girlfriend, whom Eli's never actually met, but despises regardless.

"She's a Daily Prophet reporter," she explains yet again. "Did I already tell you this?"

"Yeah." Of course. I'm the only on you've talked to in the past three days. Who else would you have told?

"Oh. Well." The redundancy of her rant does little to discourage her. "Like, that's way less important than being a Healer."

"Intern at St. Mungo's," I mutter. Though to be fair, I don't envy her family situation. She's an afterthought of a child, a girl born six years after the last of three boys, who all became wildly successful in diverse fields—which is, as Eli is fond of pointing out, statistically improbable. Her age alone has proved to be a disadvantage. What's the big deal about an O on the O.W.L.s when Steve is now a licensed Auror?

Eli's unhealthy need for attention is not a good fit with her family. Or maybe it stems from her family. Oh, Merlin, they've created a monster.

My mum welcomes us in and all but spoon-feeds us Christmas cookies. It's been about fifteen minutes and Eli's calling her 'mum' too as we sprawl on the couch watching cheesy Christmas movies. Muggles really have the right idea with this whole TV thing.

Our dinner on Christmas Eve is a meal composed of snacks, as usual: cheese and crackers, a vegetable tray, shrimp cocktail, fruit and nuts. We fill and refill our small paper plates. Eli and I split a bottle of sparkling cider, neglecting to use cups in favor of passing the bottle back and forth, and pretending to be drunk to the mixed amusement and disapproval of my mum.

* * *

It isn't until two in the morning, technically Christmas Day, that we stumble into my bedroom, wanting desperately to fall asleep in a warm bed.

"There's only one bed," Eli whines.

"It's a trundle—you can pull it out unless you want to sleep on the floor." I curl up in my bed, smiling as my eyes ease shut.

"Are you serious, Bri? _I'm_ the guest!"

I pull the blankets over my face, but a mere couple seconds later Eli's full weight crashes down on top of me. Then she rolls off to one side and, still on top of the covers, hooks a leg around me. I whip the sheets off my face and glare at her.

She yawns theatrically. "I'm comfy, how 'bout you?"

I sigh and shove her leg off of me but am too tired to do much beyond that.

* * *

The morning brings a modest exchange of gifts: candy, lotion, jewelry, makeup. We spend a good lot of the day in our pajamas, making pancakes and frosting cookies. It's well into the afternoon, but still light out when we get dressed—or bundled up, rather—and venture outside. The day is blindingly bright, the cold sun reflecting off the crystal snow. It's well below freezing. Eli and I sprint ahead of my mum, mittens shielding our faces. We burst into the Three Broomsticks right as it's opening then wait for my mum—and her money—to arrive as we defrost. She comes in minutes later, having taken her sweet time on the frigid walk, and we order a round of hot butterbeer, gulping them down as soon as they are placed on our table. Eli complains about her scalded tongue, but downs her next drink just as quickly as the first.

And so Christmas comes and goes in a relatively unremarkable fashion.

"What's Christmas like at your house, Eli?" my mum asks her later that night.

"Oh, well, it's bigger. More of a production. Lots of cleaning and cooking and stressing." Eli gives a dismissal shrug. "Not really my thing." Her face doesn't seem quite as nonchalant as her body language, but I let it slide. It's late and it's dark and it's just not something I'm supposed to see.

* * *

The next day we head back home, carrying several pounds of leftover cookies.

"If there's an illegal Christmas cookie trade," Eli says, "I think we're a part of it now."

The day after Christmas this year is as quiet and uneventful as it is ever year. Well, at least by the time I go to sleep that night I think it's going to be. But I'm woken up after a short time by the unmistakable crack of Apparation. I lay still in bed until I hear knocking at our door a moment later. Warily, I peer out the window.

Oh, Merlin. Who else would it be?

I rush out of my room, peek in Eli's—she's still sound asleep—and right before going downstairs I catch my reflection in the mirror. Frowning, I straighten up my hair and regret the stained sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. In a moment of post-midnight poor decision making, I slip out of my sweatpants and hurl them into Des's unoccupied room. I smile, and continue down the stairs, thinking of how genius I am be able to make an extra large t-shirt look sexy under pressure.

When I open the door all that is forgotten because Teddy looks worse than I do, even pre-stained-sweatpants-removal. He also looks like a scene out of a movie, holding a bottle of something that smells like nail polish remover in a crumpled paper bag. And even in the dark I'm pretty sure he's crying.

"Oh. Hey, Teddy. What's… going on?"

The dim lighting of the house as he stumbles inside does nothing to improve his appearance. Yikes. Good thing Teddy's a metamorphmagus because if this is his natural state… all sickly and pale, thin mousy hair and small, weak eyes…

"Bri, I'm sorry. I shouldn't've come here."

"Teddy, what happened?"

We sit on the stairs and I wrestle the bottle of alcohol away from his needy grasp.

He hunches over, burying his face in his hands, muffling his words. "Well, let's see… I was at the Potters' for Christmas, and Victoire was there of course."

I'm sickened by the involuntary jolt of hope that Victoire was the one who had gotten him into this state. Have I always been this selfish?

"And long story short I asked her to marry me."

I groan, falling back against the steps. But, wait—if she had said yes he surely wouldn't have shown up on my doorstep, drunk off his ass.

He continues drearily, saying, "Basically she freaked out, saying that I was rushing her and that we're still kids. Then…" He lifts his head and stares at me with dead eyes. "Then she dumped me. So… that's that. It's over… it's all… over." He stands up slowly, his knees cracking, and starts groggily up the steps. "So I'm just gonna crash here if that's okay."

"Alright, uh, I've got a couch down here…"

He continues up, turning down the hall.

"Or you could sleep up here… Y'know, whatever you want." I stand in the door watching as he lies down in my unmade bed. "Okay, um… I'll go sleep in Des's room then. Goodnight."

"No, wait." He sits up, sudden clarity in his eye as he grabs my arm and pulls me across the tiny room to the bed. "Stay. Please."

You've got to be kidding me.

"Teddy, I'm going to go now."

"Please," he beds, staring up at me with eyes that are beginning to tear up. "Don't go."

Merlin, this is pathetic. The most pathetic part is that I shut off the light, close the door and crawl into the too-small-for-two bed with Teddy, who smells like a bar. And not even a good bar, a really sketchy bar. He is burning up, almost feverishly warm and after only a few minutes I feel him sit up behind me. His shirt flies over my head and onto the ground. He settles back down and the heat he's radiating is even stronger. His hand ghosts over my hip and then rest on it, drunken fingers toying with the hem of my t-shirt.

I don't fall asleep until long after he does, when he rolls over and only our feet and elbows bump intermittently.

* * *

We wake up late the next morning when my door bangs open.

"Eh, Bri, I'm back, and—"

As soon as I see Des's appalled face I drop my head back on the pillow and clench my eyes shut.

Teddy, shirtless, sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, man, you're being really loud, can you just—"

Des slams the door, causing Teddy to wince. I scramble out of bed, ordering Teddy to stay put. First, I sneak into Des's room to retrieve my discarded sweatpants from the previous night. But they're nowhere to be found.

"Looking for these?" Des, leaning in the door frame, tosses them to me. "Why were they on my bed?"

"I just threw them in here last night, I didn't…"

He starts to walk away, so I follow him down the stairs.

"It's really honestly _not_ what it looks like."

"Well, fuck!" Des laughs, not so much as glancing my way. It's not his regular laugh, it's hollow and bitter. "What _was_ it then?"

"Des, we didn't—"

"Bri." He spins around and the sudden eye contact makes me shrink back. "I don't care who you shag, believe it or not. Do whatever the fuck you want, I just… I just thought you had a little self respect is all."

A low whistle comes from the stairs. "Is this about the half-naked, hung-over bloke in Bri's bed?" Eli asks, obviously trying to cut through the tension.

Des makes a bee-line for the front door, muttering on his way out. The slamming door hurts my head and I'm not the hung-over one.

"Alright, Brielle Marie Schmitt," Eli says, grabbing me by the ear and shoving me into a chair at the kitchen table. "What did you do to get Des dropping f-bombs like that?"

"Nothing!" I sputter.

She uses her thumb to lift one of her eyebrows in a manner that simply can't be taken seriously.

"Eli, trust me. I did not sleep with Teddy." I pause, rethinking what I said. "I mean, I did, but we didn't have sex or anything."

"Okay… well why isn't he off 'not having sex' with his girlfriend?" Her exaggerated air quotes are starting to really piss me off.

"They broke up," I explain shortly, impatiently.

Eli massages her temples with a level of frustration and exasperation that has to be at least partly feigned. "When?" she asks cautiously.

"Yesterday, I think."

"Aw, fuck, Bri, you're gonna have me storming out of here like Des!"

"What's the big deal?" I cry.

"Ever heard of a rebound?"

"I did—not—sleep—with him!"

The sound of Teddy clearing his throat from the hall makes my face burn and makes Eli flee from the house, letting the door fall shut behind her.

"I told you to stay in my room," I hiss at Teddy, who is still shirtless for some reason that probably has to do with ruining my life without me realizing that it's his fault.

"I was hungry," he says defensively. "Your friends really hate me, huh?"

"They don't have you," I answer unconvincingly.

"Well, they sure don't like having my around."

I decide not to waste energy arguing with him on that point.

* * *

Teddy stays for the rest of the holiday, effectively ruining it for everyone involved. Does won't so much as look at me and takes on extra shirts at the Ministry. Eli suddenly has mysterious friends whom I don't know but whose parties she goes to. And I'm stuck entertaining and consoling a lovesick Teddy.

I would so much rather be bringing government bigwigs coffee or hanging out with Eli's imaginary friends.

I've been trying to get Teddy to teach me how to cook Italian food, or to talk to him about politics, and I even offered to help him pick out a guitar, telling him he could totally make it as a musician.

But he's dead-set on being a depressed, moping loser.

At least he's sleeping on the couch now.

The end of the holiday can't come soon enough. I'm hoping that returning to work will be enough of a hint to drive Teddy out. But I won't be surprised if he's too thick to take it. And I can't help but wonder if taking Teddy out of the equation will actually fix what's wrong between Eli, Des and I this time.

* * *

**A/N: I feel like a lot went down in this chapter… what are your thoughts?**


	9. Chapter 9

On the first day back after the break, Teddy stays home. Wright takes us interns into the emergency room for a little review session.

"I don't remember anything," I mutter to Des, who smiles and nods, but doesn't even a glance in my direction.

"So," Wright begins, gesturing to the wary patient on the hospital bed. "What's the problem here?"

The witch rolls her eyes and exposes her forearm, which has red boils all along the length of it. I shrug at Des, whose smile is even less sincere this time. Meanwhile, Eli drills the patient: Does it hurt? How long has it lasted? What were you doing when it appeared?

Eli quickly determined that it's due to accidental potion exposure and offers a guess at the potion, which the witch apparently already knew, but Wright seems impressed nonetheless.

"That was great, Liz," he praises. "It didn't take you long at all to get back into the swing of things. That's important. But," he continues, turning to acknowledge the rest of us lesser beings, "it's a learned skill and something that improves with time. Some are just more focused naturally."

Eli grins, and gives Wright a little "oh-stop-it" slap on the arm. Rafa scoffs and, as we continue, trailing behind Wright and the star student, he mutters a string of nasty-sounding Spanish words.

"Hey, you alright?" I ask him in a low voice, though slightly amused. "It's perfectly normal to feel pissed at Eli, you don't have to hide it."

"Not at Eli, really," he says. "Wright. Can't stand him."

This caught me slightly off guard.

"He doesn't have to make us all feel so inadequate, you know?" he explains.

"Are you jealous of the attention she gets?" I ask, understanding that feeling well enough.

"No, that's not it."

I frown. "Then… I don't really know what your issue is."

"Look, it's just… it's just nothing. Forget it."

I widen my eyes as he speeds up to ditch me. Huh. I'm having more than a little trouble holding onto friends lately.

* * *

It's lunchtime when several somber-faced Healers come into the cafeteria, whispering amongst themselves. That's never a good sign, so we all stop eating and stare at them nervously. Wright comes in, not looking nearly as worried as the others, and sits down next to Eli as usual.

"What happened?" she asks as soon as he's settled.

"Well," he sighs, shaking his head, "I wish you didn't have to find out this way, but Albert Joyce—er, Bertie, I suppose—got admitted to the hospital."

The outburst among the second-years is simultaneous and unintelligible as we all sputter out questions and exclamations.

"From what?!" Eli demands.

"A heart attack," he replies.

The table goes silent, but I can tell what everyone is thinking: a heart attack? This amazing Healer has been struck down by a Muggle affliction?

"Most wizards die of natural, non-magical causes," Wright says, answering our unasked questions.

"But he's not _dead_!" Eli snaps.

"I have to be honest with you," Wright says heavily. "You're all professional enough to be told that we don't know how much time he has left."

"That's bullshit!" Eli yells, causing a pause in the normal din of the cafeteria for a tense moment. "We're Healers," she says, more calmly. "We're gonna heal him. That's what we do."

* * *

Being at home provides little relief from the work day. Des is out with Gabe, who seems to suspect the reason for Des's sudden commitment to their friendship. Eli's holed up in her bedroom, poring over her old Healing textbooks with a renewed fervor. Teddy is sprawled across my bed, talking to me, while I sit on a chair, therapist-style.

"I just can't believe I wasted so much time on that _bitch_!" he moans, throwing an arm over his face. "Who am I kidding, I'm still in love with her… She's so beautiful. Isn't she beautiful?"

Is he really going to make me answer that question? When he peeks out at me from under his arm I realize he is.

"Uh, well, she _is_ a Veela, so…"

"Merlin, how could I have been so stupid to have screwed that up? It was so perfect. She was so perfect. She still is, but… I don't want her to be perfect with someone else. I'd probably kill myself."

He glances at me, daring me to challenge his melodramatics. I'm too exhausted to care.

"No one would miss me anyway…"

"You know what, Teddy?" I snap suddenly. He jerks up his head to look at me. A little taken aback at having earned his full attention, I continue. "It really sucks for me to have to sit here and listen to you whine about Victoire and about how no one cares about you or loves you, because—I'm here. I care about you, and… damn it, Teddy, I've loved you since, like, second year! Maybe if you weren't so captivated by that stupid Veela you'd have noticed by now."

Teddy opens his mouth and closes it again. He does this several times, and runs his hand through his hair. The brown color of his hair is darkening and deepening slowly, as if coming alive. "You… love me?" he asks nervously.

I'm so beyond feeling embarrassed. "Merlin, Teddy—_yes_. I _do_."

"Well." He's acting like it's much bigger news that it really is. How could he not have realized it sooner? "You should've told me," he says firmly.

"Should I have?" I challenge. "Would that really have changed anything?"

He has the courtesy to think about it for a second before answering, "No. I guess not."

"Exactly. So now that you know… I need you to get off my bed, because this is killing me."

He winced, clearly remembering the first night. "Sorry," he says softly, but he still doesn't stand up.

"Can you leave? I don't want to be rude, but… it's been a rough day."

"Bri," he says softly. "Brielle. You're my best friend."

"I know. But I can't handle this anymore."

"You're right, though—I was distracted by her. She's a Veela, you know… what's a guy supposed to do?" He grins and I still don't understand why he's not leaving. As bad as he is at taking a hint, he's worse yet at comprehending the most direct, explicit statements one can possibly attempt to make.

"I'm sorry, Bri," he whispers, grabbing my wrists. I twist a little, but stop when his grip tightens. I let him pull me to him and kiss me. I let myself do the rest: cast the Muffliato charm, lock the door with another flick of my wand before casting it aside, straddling Teddy and shoving him back down onto my bed.

"I thought you wanted me to leave…" He smirks.

"Oh, shut up."

He obliges and skillfully flips us over. Now I'm the one who flings his shirt across the room, and he's the one who disposes of my pants. At least there'll be no misunderstandings in the morning.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the looong delay... I wrote this and was gonna make it more better (and longer) then gave up and then decided just to post it. I will try to get the next chapter up soon. Anyway, Teddy and Bri, right? What do you think THIS means for them? ;) Please leave a review!**


	10. Chapter 10

The bed is a little too small to be anything other than uncomfortable in the morning. Somehow I'm able to slip out undetected, which seems vaguely insulting. I even bang around a little bit in my closet while getting dressed, but Teddy refuses to learn some manners and wake up. I venture downstairs, prepared for anything. Des and Eli's grumpy yet typical breakfast chatter ceases when they hear my footfalls on the last few steps. I'm hoping that awkward silences have lethal side effects when I catch their eyes. I get myself some cereal. The milk is at the table, but as soon as I make a move to go get it, Des has stood up and is returning it to the fridge.

"It's okay, you can leave the milk out—"

He closes the fridge and returns to the table.

Eli looks about as frantic as I feel. "Des," she says cautiously, "I guess you didn't hear Bri…"

"Who?" he grunts. Eli answers him with a pointed look, but he only leaves the kitchen and pounds up the stairs. There's the not-so-distant sound of a door being shut forcefully.

"Yikes," Eli says, trying to keep things light, but her smile doesn't reach her blue eyes. "What'd you do to him to get him giving you the silent treatment, six-year-old style?"

In answer to her question, two doors upstairs open almost simultaneously. I flinch, picturing Teddy in some scandalous stage of undress and Des staring for a moment before—

Footsteps clatter down the stairs and Des yells out, "Have to go in early," with the front door already swinging shut behind him.

Then Teddy lumbers down the steps, pulling a shirt on over his head, before his hands take turns scratching at practically every part of his anatomy, as if taking inventory.

Eli's eyes are round and her lips sucked into her mouth like she's trying very hard not to say something. If we weren't on the ground floor I'd be seriously tempted to hurl myself from a window. She quickly gets up and brushes past Teddy on her way to the stairs; he watches her retreating figure a little too long, and asks me what's for breakfast before he's fully turned back to face me.

"Uh, just help yourself, I guess," I tell him, rubbing one of my elbows and then my ear, and then forcing my hands to my side, desperate to not look as awkward and self-conscious as I felt.

I'm torn between relief that he doesn't bring up last night, and hurt that he doesn't see it necessary to mention it. He doesn't have to compliment me or anything, but I'm taking his silence as a personal offense.

Barely twenty minutes later I use the same excuse Des had used and escape the house, not sure what I'll do at the hospital for nearly forty minutes before my shift.

* * *

In the cafeteria at lunchtime, Des is nowhere to be seen (not remotely surprising), but Eli is also missing in action. Luckily, Gabe and Rafa make for pleasant company, since I haven't given either of them a reason to hate me yet today.

"Do you know where Eli is?" Rafa asks me. "And Des?" he adds.

I shake my head, hoping he isn't analyzing my reasons for not knowing where my best friends are.

Gabe butts into the conversation then, saying, "I saw Des stalking around the halls earlier. He seems a little too angry for small-talk over cafeteria food at the moment. I have no idea why."

I involuntarily shake my head again, even though a question had not been asked of me.

Gabe continues, "And Eli was sent home just about an hour ago."

"Sent home?" Gabe and I repeat in unison, but only he giggles at this; I'm too concerned.

"Yeah, it was the weirdest thing. She was doing a splinch job, and we all know she can do those with her eyes closed… and one hand tied behind her back, and hopping on one foot and probably while sleeping or at least drunk—"

"Cut to the chase."

"Well, she totally screwed it up. I have no idea what happened, but the poor bloke now has to be here for a day or two because he's got these awful boils. Eli kept apologizing—which, I don't know about you, but I've never seen her apologize, sincerely anyway, so that was different—but Wright just told her that she should go home and relax."

"Hmm." Although this is definitely worrying, I'm admittedly relieved that this is probably not my fault. I'm wondering what the cause was when Wright sits in his usual spot at our table.

"Hey, interns," he greets us absently, not bothering with names. As he unwraps a sandwich, I take note of something new: a thick gold band on his ring finger. Yes, that is definitely new. I frown to myself, and continue eating my own lunch.

* * *

"Eli?" I call out, walking into our house after work. There's no response. Teddy is gone, too – to where, I neither know nor care. I sigh heavily. "Look, Eli, I know you're here. I need to talk to you." I run up the stairs and fling open the door to her room.

Sure enough, she's lying on the bed with a fresh tub of ice cream, licking the undisturbed surface again and again, evenly. I almost laugh.

"It's not like we have spoons." I shake my head and sit down next to her, remembering that I'm frustrated with her. "Look, I know you're upset, but I bought that ice cream and now it has your tongue germs all over it."

She sticks out said tongue at me and goes back to sullenly licking.

I groan dramatically. "Okay, my point is this: you're making a big deal out of nothing."

Her blue eyes widen suddenly and she freezes mid-lick. "Nothing?" she gasps.

"Oh, come on, I thought the whole thing was just a joke. It was a joke right?"

"How is it a joke?" she stammers, unbelievingly.

"You didn't actually think you had a shot with Scotty, did you?"

Her delicate eyebrows knit together briefly as she looks at me questioningly. Then her face relaxes again and she sits up. "Maybe I did. He seemed to like me."

"But not in that way! Surely you realized that. Besides, you've always joked about this kind of thing."

"But Mr. Right is different," she says confidently. "Surely _you_ realized _that_."

I still can't tell whether or not she's joking, and am not sure what to say. Eli doesn't give me the chance, anyway.

"It's not really that different from you and Teddy, anyway." She eyes me with feigned-innocence as she takes another long lick all the way across the ice cream carton.

I bristle and shift away from her a bit, so I can properly meet her gaze. "What does that mean?" I ask stiffly.

"It means that, yes, you seriously do love him—you were never joking about that. But it doesn't change the way he feels about you."

I'm on my feet, my fight or flight instinct apparently having kicked in. I'm not sure which one I'm going to go with yet, but my muscles are tense, ready for either. "What does that mean?" I repeat, through clenched teeth.

"It _means_ that it doesn't matter how many times you sleep with him. You and I both know he's going to go back to Victoire in the end. He knows that, too."

I stare at her in disbelief. "We—we love each other."

Eli looks amused. "Do you, now? It's funny, 'cause you'd think you two would be a bit less awkward around each other if you were actually in love. Both of you made a mistake, but you can't admit that to yourselves."

I let out a dangerous laugh. "Well—well. At least I'm not so pathetic that I can't get over a guy twice my age that I never had a chance with."

Eli is on her feet too, and the ice cream is spilled on the floor, melting a bit faster than it should have, soiling the carpet. "At least I'm not so pathetic that I would have rebound-pity-sex with a guy that _I_ never had a chance with."

"So you're telling me that if Scotty's fiancée dumped him you wouldn't jump into bed with him if he showed any interest?"

"No, I wouldn't, because I'm not a desperate _slut_."

We stare at each other in communal horror for a moment, her eyes begging to pretend that didn't happen, my eyes wishing it didn't. I turned around slowly and left the room, imagining that Eli called out an apology that I could ignore as I slammed the door. But she didn't. She probably just picked up the ice cream and kept licking it, slowly, not regretting anything.

* * *

The next day, Eli isn't given her usual posts at St. Mungo's – the Healers still apparently reluctant to entrust her with so much responsibility – and the rest of us have to pick up the slack. And it's a lot of slack. I guess I should appreciate how much Eli actually does around here.

Anyway, I get unarguably the best of her jobs: taking care of Bertie. It's a bit harder than I expected, though; don't they say Healers make the worst patients? This is true, at least in Bertie's case.

"Did you take your potions?" I ask him that morning.

"Most of 'em, yeah." He eyes me challengingly.

"Most of them?" I repeat. "No, you have to take all of them."

"Even if I know for a fact that some of them will kill me?"

"They won't _kill_ you – they'll _heal_ you. And that's what we want, right?"

"You might think I'm old school, but I remain firmly grounded in my belief that giving any amount of Wolfsbane, however small, to a non-werewolf has absolutely no positive effects."

"Well, there've been studies to prove it increases lucidity and it's a powerful pain killer."

"I'm not senile yet, and I can handle the pain."

"I would think you'd be a firm believer in patients following the instructions of their Healers."

"You're not a Healer. I'm a Healer."

"You _were_ a Healer, and I'm following orders from _current_ Healers. I'm not leaving this room until you take the rest of your potions. Where are they?"

Bertie smiles slyly, and folds his arms.

I groan. "You didn't vanish them, did you?"

"I might have accidentally…"

"Bertie," I moan, dropping my head in my hands. "Why can't you just cooperate? Those potions are expensive and you _will_ be billed for them."

He gives me the most aggravatingly knowing look then it quickly falls from his face. "Where's Elizabeth?"

"_Elizabeth_ is experiencing something akin to a mental breakdown and will not be available to force you to swallow potions, so you'll have to put up with me."

"Oh my, is she alright?"

"She's just overreacting to something," I say without sympathy.

He catches this and scrutinizes me. "I certainly hope you're still as good of friends as you were last year. Inseparable, really. It was as touching as it was annoying."

I'm unable to smile even at fond memories. "It's a little tense right now, between us."

"Over what?" I guess I blushed a little because he continued, "Oh, no – not… boys? I always thought you two were smarter than that."

I find this a little offensive. "Hey! You know how overdramatic Eli can be! She's all torn up over the stupidest thing…"

"Have you asked her what's wrong or why she's upset about it?"

I stare at him blankly. "Well, yeah, she's mad about… about Wright being engaged."

"Isn't he a little old for her?" he chuckles.

"Exactly, thank you, that's what I think! But she's deaf to reason and she's mad at me for finally being with someone that I really like and she just shouldn't have a problem with it. It's my life."

"And it's hers. She can be upset about dumb things if she wants to be. Maybe her reasons are better than you assume."

I glare at him for a second. "Just shut up and take your potions."

* * *

That night, sitting on the couch over a cringingly bad TV show and equally bad leftover pizza, Teddy tells me that he's going to go back to his apartment in London and try to get a job. (In what, he didn't tell me, and I'm not sure how many career paths he has left to attempt.)

"I feel bad about mooching off of you for so long."

I wonder if he means the few days he's been eating all my food, or the many years he's been bleeding me dry in every other way.

For some reason I almost tell him that it's okay and not to worry about it. But I'm able to stop this pathetic reflex. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea." The only reason I'd want him to stay is to put off having to admit to myself that Eli was right – which is not a good reason.

So I let him go. And I was almost glad for it.

* * *

**A/N: It's been a while, but I'd like you to know I'm still working on this. I took some time off to read (I hadn't read in awhile) and re-inspired myself for at least the time being. If you care at all, I read The Fault in Our Stars and Looking for Alaska, both by John Green (I love John Green, btw) and they're both great books that I'd definitely recommend! There's only about two chapters left of this little story, maybe three. Any predictions? A lot of this part of the story has to do with misunderstandings between characters. Have you caught on to any of them? Please leave a review and stick around for the end! -Jenni**


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